Chapter 8: 5 November

A/N: I was going to save this part for the beginning of another, much bigger chapter 8, but then I got excited and decided I want to post it out. Plus, I figured two updates in a night is much deserved by all y'all who've been patiently waiting on me to update =) I hope you like it!

Her eyes looked almost steely now as she glared at him and all Harry wanted to do was hold her again. Though just as much of him wanted to run from her and turn her in. She looked so much like the old Bellatrix in that moment-powerful in no way good.

"Fine," he heard himself say flatly as he got down from the windowsill. "I'll tell you what I know, but I'm having another drink first." Bellatrix rolled her eyes and crossed her legs.

"If you say so. And I will drink as well if that would make things more comfortable." Harry didn't answer her, but he did notice two frosty tumblers materialize next to the bottle of firewhiskey from the party.

He poured their drinks and once they were situated back on thw windowsill (side-by-side, but not touching) Harry really tried to give thought to what he should tell her...and how. He remembered when Hagrid first broached the topic of Voldemort to him as a child and decided to start there.

"There was once a wizard who went...about as bad as any wizard can go. You were only a child when he started to become powerful," he began as he took a deep swig of his firewhiskey.

"He was basically going around making deals and killing people to gain more power." Harry was trying to sum up all the horror of Voldemort as concisely and vaguely as he could, as if he was talking to a child, the same way Hagrid had first spoken of the evil wizard. Harry knew Bellatrix was not a child, but he was terrified of what might happen if her memories of Voldemort returned to her, especially if she remembered her devotion to him. But if Bellatrix did remember anything, she didn't show any signs of it.

"I remember my parents going to these meetings, sometimes holding them at our house when I was home on school breaks...there were a lot of men in really nice robes smoking cigars. They would get drunk sometimes and say vulgar things to my sisters and I until we went up to bed," she said rather dreamily and took a rather large sip of drink, shivering when she swallowed it.

"And...I don't know why you did it…" Harry went on. "Maybe you wanted to be powerful, too. Maybe you wanted to make your parents proud because they supported him...Maybe you were just scared, but you joined him and ended up getting closer to him than anyone."

"Yes...my middle sister and I had a row about something while she was still in school and I was fresh out...she didn't want me to do whatever I was doing and I didn't approve of the man she wanted to marry...bit stupid, really...but if what you say is true, then the row must have started over that." She shut her eyes in solemn reflection, but Harry forced himself to go on, hoping to say enough to satiate her so that they'd never have to talk about this again.

"The things you did for him were...fucking horrible...but you did them and eventually he was defeated and you went to prison...as a...war criminal." He didn't tell her Voldemort was back. He didn't mention anyone by name. Didn't tell her she'd tortured the Longbottoms into insanity or that she'd killed Sirius...or even that Voldemort killed his parents...he just made it out like she'd committed some petty crimes, maybe killed a few unknown strangers...because he didn't know what would happen to either of them if he told her the whole truth.

She didn't say anything for a while. Just kept on sipping at her drink and refilling it when her glass was empty. Harry felt the weight of all he had told her beginning to press in on him. The magnitude of her knowing anything would always be too great, Hermione had said.

"And...then what?" Bellatrix said finally. She was getting a little drunk, Harry realized. Her eyes were getting glassy, less intimidating and her speech was a bit slurred. He on the other hand, felt like he was sobering Perhaps it was the adrenaline of all this.

"Then nothing," he said. "Hermione, Ron and I found you all beat up in Hogsmeade with your memories gone...maybe you escaped from prison, maybe someone took you, your guess is as good as any of ours. But since none of us know, we've been keeping you here. If you go out, you'll just get arrested again or worse, killed by whoever tried to hurt you in the first place." Or worse, he'd said. And he found with mixed anxiety and warmth, that he hadn't lied to her. He did not want Bellatrix Lestrange to die...no, you don't want Bella to die...Bellatrix Lestrange can die and stay dead, just like Sirius...

"Are...are you t-trying to find out?" she hiccuped, interrupting his thoughts.

"Find out what?"

"Who wants to hurt me. I can't stay here forever-I can ta-take care of...myself." She drank the last of the firewhiskey straight out of the bottle and then set it down shakily beside her.

"I know that, but...I'm scared for you," Harry admitted. "I don't want anything bad to happen to you."

"Wh...why? I though' you said I was some kinda criminal?" she slurred again as she said this and Harry put his arm around her small frame so she wouldn't slip off the windowsill.

"Okay. Well, what if there was a person you met who you knew had done a lot of bad things, and then you met the same person again and they were really kind?"

"Hmmmmm," she murmured and slumped against him. "Harry...have we met before?"

"It doesn't matter," he said quickly. She could never find out about what happened at the Ministry. There was a part of him that knew this intrinsically.

"D...does matter."

"I think that's enough for one night. You should get some rest." He guided her off the windowsill and over towards her bed.

"No. Stay." She surprised him by snaking her hand around one of his wrists.

"I was planning to stay."

"No. I mean stay-with me-not on the bloody couch." Then he realized what she was implying. As with everything involving Bella, he knew it was a bad idea-but he was exhausted and starting to get a headache-meanwhile, her bed was looking especially comfortable. With a sigh of resignation, Harry helped her under the blankets and then slipped into bed beside her.

Bellatrix Lestrange was spooning against him almost immediately. But Harry didn't know what to do with his arms. It couldn't possibly be comfortable for her to have his left arm tucked under the crook of her neck like that, so he slid it under one of the pillows supporting her head. Meanwhile, he kept his right arm pressed firmly to his side in case he needed to draw his wand in a hurry...not that he thought he'd need to. Judging by the even tone of her breathing, he could have sworn Bellatrix was already asleep. Then he felt her stir.

"Someone was in here today," she said drowsily. His left arm tightened around her from under its pillow.

"What?!"

"I couldn't see them of course, but someone was here in the room of requirement...rummaging around like they were looking for something."

"Or hiding something. Bella, I need you to tell me if you ever hear anyone up here again, alright?"

"Mhmmm," she sighed and curled up further into him so that her back was against his chest and he felt a rush of electricity in his lower body. As complicated as this situation was, he'd been thinking about this woman for weeks and now here he was beside her, holding her. Mere hours after winning a Quidditch match. His best friend was finally getting laid. And in the midst of all these pleasant things, the worrying could wait another day.