Hermione was learning a lot of new, dark, terrible things about magic in the Black library, but none of the books had any information at all on healing. It was enraging; a terrible anger rose higher and hotter inside of her with every day that passed without a solution. She had no leads, no anything. Bellatrix didn't seem nearly as invested in finding a cure as Hermione was. In fact, she sometimes got the impression the woman was just humoring her.

Instead, Bellatrix spent a lot of her time outside, wandering through the grounds and beyond. She came back at night smelling like sweat and soil, her hair wild and dirt under her nails. She wrapped herself around Hermione each night, her grip never loosening, not even when she was asleep.

Crookshanks went with her most days, which left Hermione to pluck twigs and dirt out of his fur. He slept at their feet and between him and Bellatrix, she hardly slept at all. She wouldn't have it any other way.

A month slipped through her fingers without any progress. During their second month, Bellatrix came home one day with Fawkes on her shoulder, long beak picking leaves out of her hair. Hermione spent the rest of that month begging Fawkes for tears and experimenting with potions. She wrote letters to everyone she could think of asking for help-leads, information, anything.

The blue potions were dwindling along with Hermione's sanity. Bellatrix went the opposite way, growing lighter and more unburdened with each passing day. Hermione wanted to scream at her, shake her shoulders and tell her to snap out of it. Instead, she bottled it up, letting the anger fester inside.

Most of the time she avoided the room Druella was in, but eventually she needed to comb the shelves of books in there.

"Disgusting," Druella said while Hermione pulled the promising looking books off the shelves, "Bella is still disappointing me, even after I've died. Dragging our name through the dirt, romping in the sheets with fifth."

Hermione said nothing, trying to focus on the titles in front of her. A few more shelves to scan and then she'd be done.

"Always a disobedient little bitch, that one. I never could break her. Perhaps I should've used the Cruciatus curse on her a bit longer. Or perhaps I should've made Cygnus do the hitting. He could've put more muscle behind it. Filthy, stupid girl. Bringing shame-"

"Shut up!" Hermione yelled, throwing her pile of books on the ground and whirling to face the portrait, "Shut the fuck up!"

"How dare-"

"Confringo!"

The portrait burst into flames and she felt a moment of satisfaction only for it to be snatched away when the flames cleared, leaving only the wooden frame singed.

Druella screamed curses at her as she left the room. Hermione stormed upstairs and rifled through her bag until she found what she was looking for. Once she found it, she returned to the living room. Druella had not stopped screaming. Hermione marched up to her and withdrew a small metal object.

"What do you think you're doing?"

With a flick of her thumb, the lighter sparked to life. She leaned in until she was inches from Druella's sneering face.

"You should know," Hermione began. The tone in her voice made Druella fall silent, "That the last piece of your soul is going to be destroyed by a muggle invention."

She held the lighter to the corner and just as she suspected, no one had bothered to protect the portrait from muggle inventions. She had a moment to revel in the shocked, indignant look on Druella's face before it was engulfed in flames. She screamed as if she was actually being burned alive. Hermione stepped back and watched the fire devour her.

A noise in the doorway had Hermione whirling around to face the figure watching her. Bellatrix. She stood with her arms hanging loosely at her sides, staring at the screaming portrait with wide eyes. She stared until the screaming stopped, and all that could be heard was the crackling fire. Hermione flicked her wand and the fire extinguished.

Bellatrix moved her eyes to her, an awestruck look on her face.

"Bella…I-"

Bellatrix cut her off with a shake of her head, "Hermione…you are so…" she trailed off, unable to find the words to describe what she felt in that moment.

She crossed the room in four strides and yanked the younger girl against her. Still riding the high from destroying the hateful bitch that abused the woman she loved, Hermione wasted no time sliding her tongue against Bella's lips and into her mouth. Bellatrix moaned, fisting her hands in her hair. She pushed her back until she was up against the wall and moved her lips to Hermione's neck. She nipped a trail down until she reached the collar of her shirt. The woman growled in frustration and yanked it over Hermione's head, grinning lasciviously at the Gryffindor's lack of a bra. She moved her attention to Hermione's breasts, nipping playfully at her before pulling a nipple into her mouth and sucking. Hermione groaned and arched into her, fisting her hands in that wild hair.

Bellatrix remove her mouth immediately, eliciting a frustrated whine. Bellatrix snickered and dragged her nails down Hermione's stomach until she reached the waistband of her jeans. She bit at Hermione's jutting hipbones while her hands worked at pulling her jeans and underwear down her legs. Hermione kicked them off impatiently but kept a hold on Bella's head, not allowing her to pull away. Bellatrix pressed a hand to her sternum and shoved her so she was fully pressed against the wall once more.

"Stay," She hissed.

Bellatrix grabbed her behind her knee and tossed her leg over her shoulder, exposing Hermione fully to her. Bellatrix licked up the wetness that gathered, then attached her mouth to Hermione's clit. She sucked on it, then slid two long fingers into Hermione's waiting warmth. She dropped her head back against the wall, covering her mouth to try to stifle the noises that were working their way out of her throat. Bellatrix ceased her movements to look up at her.

"No one can hear us here, darling. Be as loud as you'd like,"

She looked down at the woman on her knees smiling up at her, her wetness shining on her chin. She dropped the hand that was covering her mouth to cup Bellatrix's cheek instead. Bella turned her head to kiss her palm before returning to her center. Hermione slid her hand back into her hair and ground against her face to meet her slow thrusts and licks.

Bellatrix had been softer with her lately. She made every time feel like the last time, and it drove her mad as much as it broke her heart. Hermione slipped her hands beneath the collar of the woman's dress to dig her nails into her shoulders. She felt the cursed handprint Voldemort left on her, imagined his hand where hers was. The hourglass was running low.

"Harder," Hermione whispered, "I want you, Bella, the way you are."

Bellatrix looked up at her again and Hermione witnessed her gaze darken from tender to black. She rose to her feet and pressed her hand against the base of Hermione's throat. She moved in, letting her breath ghost over Hermione's parted lips.

"Turn around," Bellatrix growled.

Hermione did as she was told and then Bellatrix pressed herself flush against her back, the roughness of her dress pressing lines into Hermione's bare ass. Her arms wrapped around her waist and one hand moved up to roughly palm her breast while the other scraped down her stomach towards her throbbing heat. Hermione clutched at Bella's straining forearm and felt the muscles flex as she pushes inside her. She dropped her head forward, against the wall, and pushed her ass back towards the witch behind her.

Bellatrix slipped her foot on the inside of Hermione's and nudged it, spreading her legs wider. Her finger pushed deeper inside of her, pumping in and out at a steady, unforgiving rhythm. Hermione bit her lip and her legs began to shake as Bellatrix pushed her to the edge with practiced ease.

She saw white when Bellatrix forced a third finger inside of her. She ground down and the slightest pressure of Bellatrix's palm against her clit had her screaming her name.

Bellatrix pulled out of her and turned her around. Hermione sagged against her, shaking and pressing sloppy, lazy kisses against Bellatrix's neck gratefully. She would never get tired of this.

That night Hermione woke from one of her nightmares to see Bellatrix rooting around in her dresser, muttering under her breath. Hermione felt an inexplicable instinct to stay quiet instead of letting her lover know she was awake. She stayed still and listened to Bellatrix scratching at wood. The movements stopped, and Hermione held her breath. After what felt like an eternity, she hears Bellatrix whisper something in Parseltongue.

In the past, Hermione had insisted Harry teach her the language. He had, grudgingly so, after years of her insistence. She knew knowledge like that may come in handy in a world where dark magic was on the rise, but even if it didn't the idea of learning an ancient and lesser known language was irresistible.

It was why she recognized the words that fell from Bellatrix's lips.

Toujours Pur.

She heard a metallic click, then the rustling of Bellatrix rising to her feet. She shut the dresser door as softly as she could. Then she slid back into bed like nothing happened, wrapping herself around Hermione and burying her face in her hair.

Hermione laced their fingers together and Bellatrix made a happy little noise. It's easy to push thoughts of what the woman was doing in the middle of the night aside in the comfort of her embrace. She trusted her completely.

But curiosity always got the better of her eventually. Bellatrix was gone that morning by the time Hermione woke up. She wanted to forget what she heard last night and simply ask the woman, but her gut was telling her she'd better just check for herself.

She shoved aside the covers along with the gnawing little feeling of guilt and made her way to the dresser. She opened it quietly, as if Bellatrix would appear if she were too loud, and saw what appeared to be an ordinary wardrobe. Of course, Bellatrix wouldn't hide something that simply, she always had to take it a step farther.

Hermione pushed the hanging clothes aside and knocked on the back, searching for a false panel. Finding nothing, she sighed and took a step back. She aimed her wand and whispered Accio box.

A loud, metallic clang erupted, shaking the wardrobe at its foundation. Hermione knelt down, shoved aside Bellatrix's collection of black leather boots and felt around the base. A strip of wood was just loose enough for her to get her fingernails under it and jostle it free.

Beneath it lies an antique silver box, adorned with the black family crest in carved onyx. There was a large lock on the front of it, and Hermione traced a finger over it before whispering the words Bellatrix spoke before, in her best imitation of Parseltongue.

The lock turned as if an invisible key was slipped in and twisted, and the lid popped open. Hermione lifted it to see a worn leather-bound journal inside, the initials P. C. B etched into the cover. Hermione sat back on her heels and undid the leather tie.

Inside was page upon page of scrawled spells, extensive research and testing behind them. Hermione skimmed the first few lines, enough to gather it was dark, dark magic. As dark as what she encountered during the war, if not darker.

"What do you think you're doing?" Bellatrix said from the doorway, a frantic note in her voice. Hermione's eyes darted up to see Bellatrix looking at her with a mix of panic and betrayal.

Hermione jumped to her feet, "What is this, Bella? Why were you hiding it from me?"

Bellatrix rushed towards her and made a grab at the journal, but Hermione expected as much and swept it behind her back. Bellatrix's panic gives way to desperation and she grabbed Hermione's face.

"Hermione, please,"

Hermione didn't expect that. Bellatrix isn't one to beg. She brought a free hand to grasp Bella's wrist, "I thought we were done keeping things from each other,"

Bellatrix's chest heaved and she remained silent, jaw clenched.

Hermione continued, "We're a team, Bellatrix. Don't pull away from me now,"

Bellatrix's eyes went blank and she stepped away, "It's my grandfather's journal. There's…something in there that would cure me,"

Hermione sucked in a breath, and whipped the journal back from behind her to start skimming frantically.

"I won't do it," Bellatrix said quietly.

Hermione looked up, her chest tightening, "What are you talking about?"

Bellatrix took the journal from her and leafed through it before handing it back, tapping the page sharply with her pointer finger, "Pollux created a potion that will turn a witch or wizard mortal. He created it with the intention to use it as a kind of punishment, the cruelest kind, but in the process discovered that not only does it turn one mortal, it cures any magical ailments. So, it would cure lycanthropy, or any other magical illness. Any long term curses," Bellatrix gripped Hermione's shoulders, "It's too high a price for me to pay,"

Hermione jerked away from Bellatrix's touch, tears jumping to her eyes, "You hate muggles so much that you would rather die and condemn me to a life alone than become one?"

"You wouldn't die alone," Bellatrix snapped.

"I would," Hermione said, glaring, "You think anyone could live up to you? Come on, Bellatrix, don't get modest on me now,"

Bellatrix's face twitched into a sneer, "I don't appreciate your tone,"

Hermione shoved the journal at Bellatrix, smacking her in the chest with it, "I don't appreciate you throwing our future away because you look down on muggles,"

Bellatrix snatched the journal out of her hand and tossed it to the side before she surged forward and captured Hermione's mouth in a bruising kiss. Hermione clung to her until Bellatrix pulled away and pressed their foreheads together.

"Idiot," Bellatrix mumbled, "It's not because I look down on them. Magic is a huge part of who I am. I've lost so much trying to hold onto you, but this…I can't let go of the last thing that makes me who I am,"

Hermione pulled away, eyes shining, "You think that just because you stopped killing and tormenting that you're not you anymore? How can you not see that you're so much more than that?"

Bellatrix pulled away with a small, heartbreaking sound deep in her throat, "How can you ask me to give it up? It's all I have left. I'll be vulnerable, I'll be nothing without it,"

"It's not all you'll have, Bella," Hermione argued.

"I won't let you watch me die," Bellatrix whispered with reverence, like a sacred promise. She grabbed the journal and left the room, leaving Hermione temporarily rooted to the spot in shock.

The words sunk in and she lurched forward on trembling legs after her. Bellatrix was already downstairs, and Hermione hurdled ungracefully after her. She caught up in time to see her throwing the remaining vials stored in the kitchen cabinet into a bag, carelessly, like she didn't care if they broke or not. Hermione grabbed her arm and Bellatrix yanked it away, her eyes wide and dilated like a crazed animal.

"Bellatrix stop," Hermione said, her throat burning, "Please don't do this to me."

Bellatrix stomped from the kitchen and flung open the door to the coat closet, snatching a traveling cloak off a hook. While she was distracted, Hermione flung herself at Bellatrix and the both of them toppled to the ground in a tangled heap. Bellatrix struggled against her but Hermione locked her in a hold she learned from her, trapping her legs between her thighs and pinning her arms above her head.

"None of this would be happening if I left with you when you asked," Bellatrix said as she struggled against her, breath hot on Hermione's tear stained cheeks. Hermione knew she meant that day at Malfoy Manor, knew she was right, but didn't care.

"It doesn't matter anymore," Hermione said, burying her face in Bellatrix's neck. She bit down hard enough to make her bleed and a sob wrenched its way out of Bellatrix, her entire body trembling with the force of it. Hermione felt her every emotion like it was her own, and the combined force of it made her head spin with the intensity.

"Look at me," Bellatrix said, her voice suddenly calmer. It hardly did anything to quell the storm of emotion inside Hermione, but she did as she was asked, "I can't let you watch me die. I can't watch what it's going to do to you,"

Hermione shook her head stubbornly. She wouldn't accept this. She couldn't accept it.

"Hermione, let me go,"

Hermione watched Bellatrix's expression tremble before the emotion drained from her face and her eyes went cold.

"This is over, Granger. Stop fighting for someone who doesn't want to be fought for. We had our fun, but it's not fun anymore. It's painful,"

Hermione's grip weakened at the words and Bellatrix seized the opportunity to shove her off. Hermione sat on the floor and looked up at Bella's retreating form. She felt sick to her stomach.

"You're a coward," Hermione said. Bellatrix stopped in the doorway, "I'll never forgive you if you leave,"

Bellatrix turned so Hermione could see her profile, "I know," she said, and then she was gone.

Bellatrix has been gone for four months.

Hermione refused to leave Black manor. Even without Bellatrix there, she continued to spend most of her time searching the books for another cure, praying every night to whoever would listen that she'd wake up with Bellatrix's arms wrapped around her again.

She felt empty. All she had to hold on to is the routine of combing through the library as the weeks ticked by. She ate the bare minimum it took to stay alive, using the surprisingly still in commission fireplace to go into town for grocery shopping. She felt herself wasting away, her pants fitting loose around her hips and every time she looked in the mirror the circles around her eyes seemed darker. The little sleep she managed was wrought with dreams about Bellatrix dying, or the worst memories from the war. She couldn't seem to sleep peacefully without Bella beside her.

Fawkes stayed with her for some reason; like some shining shred of a reminder that Bellatrix was still out there somewhere, that she still cared about what happened to Hermione. When she wasn't reading or using the arsenal of bottled ingredients at the Black Manor to experiment with potions, she was lying in the grass watching the phoenix fly above her. Crooks liked to curl up on her chest and purr loudly, like he was trying to heal the gaping hole of Bellatrix's absence.

Hermione wished she could take back everything she said. She wished she could beg Bellatrix to at least live out her remaining days with her, but as each day passed Hermione could feel herself dying right along with her.

Crooks, Fawkes and her stubborn shred of faith in Bellatrix was all that kept her going.

Fawkes brought letters from Ron and Harry but Hermione was so lost in darkness she didn't bother reading them. She could feel the deadline approaching and she didn't know how to prepare herself to exist in a world without Bellatrix Black. Once six months came around since Bella was cursed there was no telling when the curse would take her. For all she knew she was dead already, lying in a ditch somewhere. Hermione had no way of knowing if she was even taking the vials that held back her symptoms or if she was just waiting to die. And not only was there a curse threatening her life, but there was no shortage of people in the world that wanted to see her dead.

As much as she hated to admit it, Hermione could see where Bellatrix was coming from. Despite growing up in the muggle world, magic was such a major part of who she was that it broke her heart to imagine life without it. Still, she knew without a doubt that she'd give it up in a heartbeat to be with Bellatrix. That's what hurt her about Bellatrix's inability to do the same for her.

One day, when Hermione was spending yet another day buried in a book on dark curses, she heard a crash towards the front of the house. The sound scared her out of her skin given how long she'd been sitting in near dead silence in the manor. Then, her heart leapt into her throat so fast it made her head spin. She jumped to her feet and rushed to the front of the house, her eyes already brimming with tears.

She reached her destination to find the door wide open, not another person in sight. The cold night air drifted in, nowhere near harsh enough to be the culprit.

"Hello?" Hermione called, drawing her wand.

There was no response. She ventured out the front door, the hair rising on the back of her neck. Someone was close, and Bellatrix wouldn't mess with her like this. Well, she probably wouldn't.

A flash of light exploded beyond the fence line. Hermione rushed forward thoughtlessly, running through the tall, unkempt grass to the edge of the property. Another flash erupted and is deflected, slamming into the tall iron gate inches from Hermione.

"Who's out there?" She called, sounding braver than she felt.

The resounding silence was deafening. There was no movement in the bushes, no swaying of the branches, no light, no voices. Hermione held her breath, listening intently.

"Don't let that bitch get away," A man's voice yelled, shattering the silence, "You can run, Bella, but we will hunt you down,"

The breath left Hermione at once, every nerve in her body catching fire at the mention of Bella's name. She flung the gate back and kicked a nearby rock in the gate's open gap to keep it from locking her out, before turning and sprinting towards the woods ahead.

She stopped when a woman stepped into her path a few feet ahead. After a moment Hermione recognized her as Alecto Carrow, and she squinted at her in confusion. Alecto smiled slowly, raising her wand. Hermione sent a curse her way with a flick of her wrist but she put up a shield, the confident smirk remaining in place.

"Grab her," Alecto said.

Hermione didn't have any time to react before a pair of arms wrapped around her chest. She screamed as they tightened, lifting her off her feet. She cursed herself for being reckless, slow, impulsive, but she'd barely been eating or sleeping for months and it's left her weak and vulnerable.

Worse than the fear of being caught was the pain in her chest at thinking she was about to be reunited with Bellatrix only to realize it was probably only a trap. Bellatrix wasn't there. She would probably never see Bellatrix again.

Bellatrix was probably dead already.

Hermione held back tears as the woman approached her. "Is she here?" She found herself asking.

She raised her wand and hit Hermione with a body binding curse. Hermione hardly felt it, her heart ached in her chest and the sensation overwhelmed anything.

"She's here alright," the man said from behind her, "hiding like a coward,"

"Carry her to the house, Amycus," Alecto said, "She'll come for her pet,"

Distantly, Hermione wondered how they escaped Hogwarts after the battle. She thought for sure they'd be in Azkaban, but in all the stress and confusion of Bellatrix's betrayal they must've slipped away.

Amycus carried her through the open gate. He hissed when the gate seared his arm as he brushed by it, nudging it open the rest of the way with his foot. Tears continued to leak out of Hermione's eyes, slipping into her mouth with her unable to wipe them away. She hoped Bellatrix would come for her. No, she knew Bella would come. Despite everything they said to each other when she last saw her she knew deep down how Bellatrix felt about her. The siblings were stupid to think they stood a chance against Bellatrix Black.

Hermione felt a twinge of irritation at the way Alecto strode into Black Manor with a complete lack of respect, trudging her muddy boots across the expensive floor. They found the living room and Amycus dropped her unceremoniously on the couch. Hermione could only stare at the ceiling and strain to listen to the siblings plot to lure Bellatrix inside.

The smell of smoke drifted to Hermione's nose. She blinked, her eyes beginning to burn.

Something was on fire.

She wanted to warn them but after a moment Alecto stopped in the middle of her plotting to sniff the air.

"What the-"

Before she can finish, the wall to her immediate right erupted into flames. Alecto shrieked and leapt away, but her sleeve had already caught fire. Her brother was sputtering spells but nothing seemed to work. Alecto shimmied out of her cloak so fast she tripped on the hem.

Amycus moved to help her up but she held up a hand and pointed at Hermione.

"Grab her!"

Amycus took a step towards her but then the coffee table between them burst into flames. Hermione could feel the heat on her face but she couldn't move an inch. Feeling returned to her fingers and toes, but she couldn't force her legs to work. The fire burned hotter and she heard Amycus scream.

"Leave her, let's get out of here!" Alecto said.

Then, Hermione couldn't hear anything but the crackling flames. She laid motionless, listening to the fire and feeling the scorching heat on her face, thinking about Bellatrix.

Then, like a dream come true a sallow face and dark hair loomed over her. Hermione blinked dreamily up at her, her throat burning and head spinning from the smoke. Bellatrix wrapped her arms around Hermione's waist and pulled her against her, then lifted her off the couch. Bellatrix's hair smelled like smoke and the forest, and Hermione sighed in relief.

She's here, Hermione thought, she's real. She's alive.

Bellatrix dragged her out of the house and set Hermione down once they were a safe distance away. She propped her up against a tree and Hermione lulled her head to the side to see Bellatrix's childhood home engulfed in fire. She felt a hand on her face and her gaze was guided back to Bellatrix.

"You look skinny," Bellatrix says, eyebrows furrowed.

Hermione hummed, thinking Bellatrix didn't look any better than her. Her cheekbones were more pronounced than before and she had red rings around her eyes. The two of them had been wasting away without each other.

"Which one of us is dying again?" Bellatrix joked, running her thumb over Hermione's cheekbone.

Hermione's lip trembled and a tear leaked out of her eye.

"You win," Bellatrix continued, "I lasted two months without you before I changed my mind. The ingredients for this thing weren't easy to track down, so that's what I was doing the rest of the time. Maybe I should've written you, but I didn't know what to say so I decided I would tell you everything in person," Bellatrix traced her jaw with the tips of her fingers and lowered her voice, "I can't subject you to a lifetime of what I felt when we were apart, and I have no interest in an afterlife without you,"

Hermione stared at her and her lungs burned with every heaving breath. Her arms twitched and she ached to throw them around her shoulders.

Bellatrix reached into her cloak and produced a vial full of blood red liquid.

"There's something I didn't tell you about the potion," the witch said, "According to the journal, there's about a 50/50 chance the potion with kill the drinker. What's it matter though, right? I don't have much time left, anyway,"

Bellatrix popped the lid and downed the potion in one gulp. She cupped Hermione's face and kissed her temple.

"I love you," Bellatrix said.

Hermione finally found her voice, and when the feeling returned to her arms she immediately reached for her lover. She grasped her shoulders and sighed against her. "I love you too,"

Bellatrix pulled back to smile at her, her eyes drinking in her face like it was the first time she was seeing her. Bellatrix tended to look at her like it was either the first or the last time she would see her with searching, focused eyes that Hermione wanted to drown in.

Then, Bellatrix's expression fell. Her eyes widened and filled with fear. Her body went stiff just as the last of the binding curse faded away from Hermione, and she lurched forward to catch Bellatrix as she collapsed.

Bellatrix let out a pained groan and she coughed, blood bubbling out of her mouth and down her chin. Hermione felt a stab of paralyzing panic. This couldn't be happening.

"Bella no, no, no, stay with me,"

Hermione fumbled for her wand and ignored the rush of deja vu as she cleared Bellatrix's airway with a whispered spell. Just like in the dream, more blood instantly replaced it. Bellatrix's head lulled back in Hermione's lap as she gazed up at her, blinking away tears. Bellatrix let out another sputtering cough as she opened her mouth to say something.

"Please don't leave me, Bella," Hermione wailed.

The pair hardly registered the sound of the roof of Black Manor collapsing behind them. The fire roared, and Bellatrix reached for Hermione's face.

She dragged a hand through Hermione's hair, trying to comfort the young witch even as she struggled to draw breath. Hermione cupped her face and reached out for Bellatrix's mind with her own.

I'll find you in the afterlife, Bellatrix thought, This isn't the end, Hermione. I won't let it be.

This is all my fault, Hermione thought, smoothing Bellatrix's hair away from her face, I'm so sorry, Bella.

I'm not, Bellatrix's face grew red, and the young witch could feel the burning of Bella's chest like it was her own as the potion destroyed her from the inside, My life started the day I found you.

Hermione cleared her airway over and over but the potion continued to burn within her. Bellatrix's arms lost their strength and her hands fell away from her. Her eyes fell shut. A scream tore its way out of the Hermione.

"Please, please, please," she wailed, her voice swallowed up by the collapsing manor behind her.

Bellatrix's chest wasn't moving any longer, and her mind was silent. The blood leaked out of her mouth now, uninterrupted by the struggle of breath. Hermione screamed again and cradled Bella's head against her chest, rocking back and forth.

Hermione pressed her lips against the top of Bellatrix's head and she trembled despite the sweltering heat surrounding her.

"I can't," she muttered hoarsely, "Bella…"

She felt a sharp, cold pain in her chest. She groaned softly, and held onto Bellatrix harder, as if she could stop her soul from leaving her body if she only held on tight enough.

Hermione stayed like that as the sun broke over the horizon. The fire was quiet now, and all she could hear was the ragged sound of her own breathing. Then she heard a quiet meow beside her and felt the soft, warm brush of Crookshanks rubbing against her arm. Hermione didn't budge an inch to look at him. She couldn't bear to put any space between her and Bellatrix's body. She wanted to stay like this until she wasted away and died beside her, she wanted to decompose in the grass along with the body of her lover. She didn't want to stand and take a single step into a world where Bellatrix didn't exist.

She couldn't tell how much time passed before she finally forced herself to pull back and look at Bellatrix's face. She felt sick as she gazed down at the pale, lifeless face that once gazed at her with irritation, with lust, with love. She would never look into Bellatrix's eyes again.

Bellatrix would never give her that infuriating smirk again. She would never see her sneer or smile, feel the hot touch of her hands or her gentle embrace. She was gone, and so was Hermione.

She felt something twitch against her arm. She looked at Crookshanks, who was curled up on the opposite side of Bellatrix's body. Her eyes flew to where Bellatrix's cool hand rested on her forearm, then she looked back at the woman's face.

Her heart hammered in her chest with renewed vigor as she stared, searching for any sign of life.

"Bella?" She whispered.

Maybe she imagined it. Her stomach twisted with disappointment when Bella remained utterly motionless.

Crookshanks jumped up with a loud meow like something startled him. His yellow eyes were focused on Bellatrix's body. Hermione's brow furrowed.

Then, Bellatrix's eyes flew open.

note: There's probably only one more chapter after this. Thank you so much to everyone who's stuck with me through this. It's been with me for so long and it's going to be very bittersweet to finally finish it.