It's been a while, I feel so bad! College is trying to kill me from exhaustion, and I actually went through what Hermione is going through in that chapter, suprisingly enough because I wrote it before it even happened to me... Anyway I know it's not much at all but I prefer to give you this now and continue working on the next chapter. Because I was not well as I worked on this chapter, I truly don't know what to think about it, I might go back to it later.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, all this wonderful HP world belongs to JK Rowling.

CHAPTER 15: It Struck Me

Hermione had granted Bellatrix the whole morning to sleep. Now that the sun was at the zenith and that Hermione had seen everything that was to be seen around where they had settled, she was hungry and in desperate need of an occupation. As she stepped in the dark tent, she realized how big it was. Far bigger than the ones she'd been inside before. That was all Bellatrix, she thought, big and majestic. There were several areas separated by decorated curtains, a dining table for at least ten people, many sofas- she was even surprised not to find a fireplace at this point.

A faint light was emitted from candles floating over her head. Just like Hogwarts. Behind every curtains she found small rooms with a bed or two, a few spare sofas, and even shelves on which aligned books and small vials of potions. At least twenty people could live in this tent! As she stood in front of another curtain, she heard a low breathing sound from behind it, followed by the shifting of sheets.

"What are you doing here?" Bellatrix's sleepy voice was so unusual to hear, and in a way so incredibly ridiculous that Hermione almost choked. She coughed to hide her contained laugh.

"Just looking around." Hermione answered innocently.

In her bed, Bellatrix rolled around and buried her face in the pillow. Couldn't the girl leave her alone for just an hour?

"I said I wanted to sleep." She complained.

"I let you sleep for at least eight hours. It's not like I wanted to wake you up now. I barely made any noise."

"Fine! Fine..." Bellatrix rolled her eyes.

Despite her apparently long sleep, she still felt exhausted. Though she was mostly hungry. And aching. She had gone to sleep without healing her wound, the reason for it unknown to her. Had she come to care so few about herself that she didn't even bother to treat her wounds anymore? Or perhaps she had just been lazy. Whatever be the reason, she was paying the price now. The skin burnt and was torn open when she stood up. And immediately her side started to bleed.

"Great." She sighed.

Rubbing her eyes, she exited the room and headed to the shelves to get some essence of dittany; she had no idea what the wound looked like, but she hoped she would not have to actually use it.

"What are you doing?"

Hermione was looking though the books and did not even turn when Bellatrix questionned her.

"Looking for something to read. Why- I can't read?"

The sarcastic tone gave Bellatrix murderous tendencies, though she simply pushed the girl aside and searched among the vials. When she found the potion, she sat in the nearest sofa, unlaced her dress and shamelessly revealed her bare chest down to her stomach. Hermione blushed instantly and turned away.

"What are you-?"

"Don't get turned on, I'm healing my wound, that's all." Bellatrix growled, unnamused.

"I thought you had done that before, it must have infected." Hermione considered with too much worry for her taste.

"Spare me your lessons- ah, Merlin!"

Bellatrix stared at her side. It was not pretty. She had been pushed against the doorframe when a Death Eater had blew up the front door, and now she saw the damages: splinters of wood and pieces of metal stabbed her side, some buried quite deeply. It was all a mess, absolutely impossible to see how bad it really was- the amount of blood oozing from the ripped flesh should have been a clue, though Bellatrix was not in the right state to focus on this. The room was spinning, not much but still enough for her to feel sick.

"Oh my-!" Hermione had finally turned to her, discovering what a mess she was making on the sofa.

"Don't be stupid, that's nothing." Bellatrix waved dismissively.

This was not Hermione's opinion. Wondering why in heaven she was helping her, she approached the dark witch carefully and peered at the wound. She could swear that white spot was a bone.

"Oh god..." She tried not to faint as she knelt beside the witch. "How did you-?"

But Bellatrix wasn't listening. She had started to remove the splinters one by one, piling them up on the floor. There were so many of them, and some were more than 3 inches long! It was easily one of the worst wound she had ever suffered. Having half of her arm's skin ripped off was the number one.

"Wait! You're making it bleed even more!"

Bellatrix ignored the remark. She didn't care that she bled to death, she just wanted to get rid of those damn splinters stabbing her side! Her vision was blurred by the loss of blood; and the sane part of her brain meant to prevent her to kill herself? It was far away, lost under too much suffering. She didn't want to die, of course not! Simply now, her deranged brain couldn't make the link between her actions and the consequences. It was like an annoying though pushed away deep down because it was too painful to acknowledge; yes, that was it. Thats was the same way she had dealt with most things: by pushing away the bad consequences and focusing on what she enjoyed on the moment. Exactly like that day, in Malfoy Manor, where she had tortued the girl instead of calling Him. The consequence was that Potter had escaped- the thing is, she had known it was a risk. She knew she should have called Him right away to prevent anything from happening and ruining everything. But she had pushed the thought aside, enjoying the pleasure of torturing the girl.

"Give me the potion. Let me help you." Hermione's voice managed to take the witch out of her thoughts, though she refused to be helped.

"I can do it myself, get away!"

"No you can't, you're going to die if you continue!"

Hermione extended her arm to grab the potion but found a wand pointed at her.

"Step away." Her voice was hoarse and weak. "Now."

She had her chance, she could easily grab the wand and disapparate.

"I may not have all my head, but I have all my strenghts. If you try to take that wand, I won't miss."

Keeping eye contact with the witch, Hermione surprised her by taking hold of the potion instead.

"Let me do it." She sighed, like a mother would in front of her stubborn child.

"Give it back!"

"You're barely conscious."

"What a bitch you are!"

Bellatrix complained; but she had given up. She had lowered her wand and leant back in the sofa. She felt that her strenghts were leaving her; she guessed if she tried to stand she would fall limply on the floor, humiliating herself more than anything else. Hermione took all the time necessary to treat the wound, going slow and calm, trying her best to ignore the dark witch's cursing and kicking -which was rather weak, more like prods and ticklings.

"Why being so protective?" Bellatrix's eyes fell on Hermione who didn't notice, too focused on the wound. "Have you finally embraced the truth?" Her voice had taken sort of a masterly tone, emphasizing her words.

"I'm starting to think you have." the young witch whispered to herself- before Bellatrix could try to understand, she quickly added: "I can't let you die."

"Oh, you care?" She purred mockingly.

Instead of orally expressing her exasperation, Hermione poured slightly too much dittany on the wound, earning a cry of pain.

"Hey!"

Most of the skin was treated, now red and irritated. It would still require regular care- considering how careless Bellatrix was, Hermione was sure she would have to take care of it.

"You need a blood replenishing potion."

Bellatrix indicated the shelf lazily and Hermione came back with the potion.

"Why?" Bellatrix took hold of Hermione's wrist, but in a much more gentle manner than ever before. "What do you have in mind?"

"If you die, I die. That's as simple."

"No, you'll take my wand and run to your stupid friends."

"I'm sure if you knew you'd die, you would do everything to prevent me to do so."

"Clever girl." Bellatrix released her wrist with a mischievous smile.

Bellatrix held her close against her chest, protecting her from danger.

"Why so protective?" The witch's voice echoed around her.

She could feel every beating of the woman's heart, feel her breath against her neck, feel her shaking hand keeping her quiet. Fear had taken over the both of them, a situation she had never thought was possible. Bellatrix being scared? She had always believed she feared nothing but Voldemort; not even death. It appeared she had been wrong. She protected me. Has she not realized it?

"If you die, I die."

Bellatrix looked at her.

"They'll kill us both." They were alone on this.

"We have to stay together."

"You cannot run forever! You will always be mine!"

Bellatrix looked at the time. Seven and a half. She was bored. She had slept a little, had tried to read- but nothing could chase away her dream. Or nightmare? It was troubling her- the fact that perhaps the girl willingly invaded her mind as she was doing with hers. What she saw when she slept was undoubtedly the girl's own thoughts, and she started to acknowledge that she couldn't control her nightmares as well as before. The power she had over the young witch had weakened; how long before the roles inverted?

Lying on her bed, in one of the room she had made hers, Hermione was lost in deep thoughts. She had also felt a change in the whole mind controlling process, though she could not put her finger on what exaclty it was. The dream she had just had troubled her. Worse, it was starting to rise panick in her mind. Why exactly- she couldn't say.

There she was, curled in a ball, staring blankly at her hands, leaving her thoughts drag her down. Something new had made its way inside her, had sneaked viciously through her lowered defences. Fatigue. Tiredness stronger than she had ever felt before. A mental exhaustion, complete weariness. The change had not been sudden and unexpected, it had been a slow process of losing hope and being broken constantly. What was harsh to take in, sudden and brutal, was the acknowledgment of this situation. Hermione had convinced herself everything would be fine and soon back to normal. She had failed to see herself fall deep down the hole; it was now that she touched the bottom that she realized it.

She didn't want to get up, didn't want to have to face Bellatrix, didn't want to see the proof that she was still there with her- she'd rather comply in denial because it was easier. There wasn't much to do, not much to think about or worry about if she remained in her bed and slept until she had no strengths to dream anymore.

Taking another bite in an apple, Bellatrix frowned at the taste. It was bitter, not sweet at all like the bite before. She sighed. The mind bond she had with the girl had always been strong, but affecting each other like this made it out of control. Everything was slipping away from her, as if she was not capable of handling things anymore. She could feel her sadness, her weakness, all of it as if it were her own. If nothing was done they'd both drown. Yet, she didn't want to care for the girl, to try to make her happy, make her feel safe; that had never been in her plans. But she could not deny she had known it for a few days now- that the girl was slowly dying. Not physically, although it may have been easier to cure. No matter what happened, she always found a way to get into annoyingly difficult situations, and she always ended up regretting and getting angry about everything.

There was the opening of a curtain followed by the young witch heading to the bathroom, coming back with a towel and crossing the living room.

"That's mine." Bellatrix noted.

Hermione kept her eyes away as she strode across the room.

"You have to learn sharing things." She replied tonelessly. "Going out."

"Don't care."

Despite the fact that there was a bathroom in the tent, what Hermione truly needed was fresh air. The sun was low, brightening up the sky where pink clouds drifted by. Hermione breathed deeply. She could not recall the last time she had seen something of such a beauty as a sunset by a lake. The sun was descending right into the water, barely touching its surface. Taking off her shoes, Hermione put her things down on the grass and walked to the water, avoiding the sharp rocks pointing out from under the dirt. The water was freezing cold but it was pleasant; it was tickling her feet as she burried her toes in the dirt.

She remained still, enjoying the last rays of sunlight on her skin. She could have sworn she had felt a fish brush her ankle. When she started to shake from the cold, she retreated to dry land and knelt by the water, eagerly splashing her face in delight. It was harsh and cold but pleasant still, it had her more alert and awake. Before drying herself, she rolled up her sleeves to wash her arms quickly, wanting to get rid of the feeling of uncleanliness hovering on her skin. The water glided along her uneven skin. Her fingers brushed it slightly, making her shiver.

She could not say that she had forgotten the scars because she would never forget them. Though she had done everything she could to pretend they were not there. Living with Bellatrix was already harsh enough without having to care about this in addition. No matter what, there was no denying of the words carved into her skin for – most likely – forever, a constant reminder of who she was living with. When she saw the scars, she understood Bellatrix's attitude when she had been recklessly aggravating her wound by tearing out the splinters. In that moment, Hermione wanted nothing more than slice her skin and make those marks disappear forever, whatever be the cost. She needed them gone. Because waking up to see them there every single day would be the end of her.

"Where are we leaving tomorrow?"

Bellatrix glanced at the young witch just coming back from outside.

"We're not leaving anymore."

"We staying here? How long?" Hermione inquired worringly. She had lived long enough in the forest with her friends to know it was not an easy life.

"I don't know!" Bellatrix clicked her tongue in exasperation.

"Things are not going as planned, it seems." Hermione taunted in a low chuckle. It was not what on would call mockery- rather, amusement when facing such an uncanny situation.

"It would, if you had not been tricking me." Bellatrix retorted menacingly.

Ignoring her, Hermione headed to her room and closed he curtains behind her. She wished she could have more privacy than just a curtain separating her from the older woman.

"Hey!" Bellatrix's voice called her from the living room, before she actually burst into the room. "Don't you leave when I'm talking to you."

"I'm not up for a fight right now." Hermione sighed. The bed seemed suddenly very comfortable- if only she could hide in there forever.

"I don't care! Look at me." Bellatrix caught the girl's upper arm and turned her around to face her. "Have you already forgotten what I said? No disrespect."

"You know, you're being very touchy." Hermione retorted in an annoyed sigh.

The words were about to come out when Bellatrix stopped. Where she had been used to see anger, hatred and even fear in the young witch's eyes- there was nothing. At least nothing close to any expression she knew. At the sight of a speechless Bellatrix, Hermione looked up and found their eyes locked.

"You have given up." The dark witch acknowledged with a grin.

Again, there was no response from Hermione, who currently was close to emotionless. Only exhaustion remained. She didn't want to fight- not when she knew she could not win.

"At least you won't be a pain in the arse anymore."

There were no remorses when Bellatrix's weight fell on the couch, nor when she picked up her book and ignored the sound of broken furniture in the nearby room. The remorses would come eventually, although too late to fix anything.

She found herself in a dark room with a tiny window bringing in a weak ray of moonlight. It was not any room. It was her own room, except it felt different; strange, foreign and somehow cold. She had the feeling that someone had broken in and went through every secret it was hiding. Something had invaded her intimacy and it lurked in her mind.

Although the space was quiet, she felt uncomfortable and pressured by the atmosphere in the room. There was indeed something creeping, similar as a monster hiding under a bed at night. It was hard to see through the heavy, sombre fog, hard to describe how she felt. Apart from saying she felt down- deep down and empty. It was a strange feeling to describe for it was complexe and unknown to her. They were affecting each other so much that she didn't even know at this point which emotions were hers and which were not. What hell had they trapped themselves into?

Everywhere around her, voices shouted, whispered, ordered- hidden in the darkness where she could not see them. Faces danced before her, pale and spectral. The faces of whom she had seen die, those of people she cared about.

You cannot run away forever. You are doomed to this life of suffering. Nothing will ever be the same. Don't resist it.

"What am I supposed to do?"

The desperate echo was silenced again. Embrace the darkness; let it consume you. Don't fight the impossible. Give in.

"Give in- give in to what?"

Her eyes crossed her reflection in a mirror; she looked awfuly pale. The life in her eyes was weak, and so was the beating of her heart. She started to shake as she searched for her pulse, finding none everywhere she touched. She was dying! Give in to your desire, or she will be the death of you.

Out of the darkness, an emaciated hand emerged and grabbed her shoulder, pulling her toward the dark hole that was its mouth, feeding on her fright and on everything she ever loved.

"NO! LET ME GO!"

Waking up ready to attack and drenched in sweat, Bellatrix grabbed her wand and burst into Hermione's room, following her screams.

"Granger!"

When she opened the curtains, she was ready to find a Death Eater, a Dementor, or anything else dangerous. Yet, there was nothing there. Only a terrified Hermione sat up on her bed looking around anxiously.

"What the hell?" She rolled her eyes in annoyance, lowering her wand.

"I- I felt there was someone, or something."

The young witch shook her head, lost in her thoughts.

"Well, next time you feel something, feel it in silence." Bellatrix complained, yawning.

But Hermione kept talking as she was turning away. "It was a nightmare- it was so dark."

"That happens in a nightmare." Bellatrix sneered.

"She said not to fight." The dark witch stopped in her way. "That we had to give in."

"There is no we here, young lady." Bellatrix spared her a mocking look. "And I have no idea what you are talking about."

"I think you do." Hermione accused boldly. "I saw you in the mirror, I know you put that nightmare in my head!"

"Excuse me?" Bellatrix retorted defensively. "I an not sure I fully understand what you mean." Her voice was menacingly low.

"You put those nightmares in my head to hurt me, I know it! You said it yourself!"

"Ok, I'm going to bed."

Bellatrix clenched her fists. She really didn't want to talk about those nightmares, because if she did it meant she had to admit she had them too- which was definitely not happening.

"No! I want to talk about that!" Hermione had crossed the safety line and was now standing in the very dangerous zone where unexpected and unpredicted reactions dominated. Still-

"Fine! We'll talk tomorrow, happy? And if I hear anything more from you, I kill you right now- no regrets. Understood?"

Hermione went back to sleep, though this time, when she woke up with a jolt, she heard nothing but her own voice. Get rid of her.

I hope you liked this chapter, don't hesitate to comment or ask questions, every critics will be read and taken into consideration for the rest of the story.