Portrait of a Tragic Woman

Chapter Forty Two: What Really Happened? A Titillating Conclusion

A/N: Didn't mean for this to take so long to come out, but there were just so many details and plot lines to wrap up coherently that it took a while.

But, this is it; the way I envisioned the ending. The way the story was going to end was revised so many times, but this is the version I feel like captures a bit of all the ways I had planned to end it, together in one conclusion. Of course, if you have your own ideas on how this story ended, go for it.

"Do you think this will work?" you ask Bellatrix with an uncertain mouth. It's only natural to be nervous about this. It may have worked for Bellatrix but you don't know if it'll work for you. The risk factor is high. But so is the reward factor.

Bellatrix stops in her motions, her facade of certainty crumbling under the weight of the same thoughts you both share.. "I...it worked for me. I'm cured now. That bullet killed Lestrange. So maybe it can do the same for you."

You nod your head grimly. It's not a savory choice, but you've run out of other options. Modern medicine can only do so much when it comes to repairing mental states. It's not even certain if Bellatrix's cure will be permanent but so far it has held steady and the woman has thrived, finally freed of the dark cage she was forced to live in for most of her life.

It's a dark cage you've known all too well because you spent time in both hers and yours. And you wish to finally be free. As Bellatrix places the bullets into the gun, you rub your hands together and try not to shiver in the chilly and dank alleyway.

So you wait impatiently and both patiently- you are in no rush for the pain and yet you want it all to be over already- your thoughts drift back to how this whole mess began.

You can remember how you both met as if it were just yesterday.

About a year ago

You sit and try not to fidget as you glare unhappily at the circle of people. You're sitting in that circle of people, right across from an attractive woman whose going to be leading this meeting. People nervously murmur around you and you squeeze the hands on your knees tighter. You shouldn't be here. You shouldn't be here, and you hate it with every inch of your body. You're nothing like those other people. You can control yourself. You know you can.

Those assholes just won't give you a chance to fix yourself. They just stripped you of all merit and shipped you out here.

"Welcome, everyone," the attractive woman speaks, silencing the room. All heads turn to her, eyes curious. "I think we all know why we're here today. It's because we're in a place we don't want to be in and so we try to fight against it. But sometimes, the battle can be too much for just us on our own so we are here for the support we can give each other."

You roll your eyes. You are fine on your own. You've always been fine on your own. You don't need anyone but yourself. The stupid court mandated this; if you want to get back to work its the only way to do so.

It's mortifying really, being stripped of all your achievements over one little slip up. It wasn't even you who did it.

"Now, this isn't a place for a cure. This isn't a place for a quick answer. Healing takes time. It takes effort and you actually wanting to change. Now, we're going to go around in a circle and introduce ourselves. Tell me your name and what your occupation is." The attractive woman says, her lips splitting into a smile. "I'll go first. My name is Bellatrix, and I am one of the people who run this program."

Bellatrix, what an unexpected name for her. You would have thought it'd be something stuffier. One by one people state their name and when it gets to you, you don't give much enthusiasm when answering. You just want to go home already. You had to sit in your car in the parking lot when you first got here, for a good ten minutes to convince yourself to go in. That you needed this to have a normal life again.

"My name's Hermione Granger. I used to be a psychologist."

Bellatrix quirks her brow up at this, but makes no further comment. You aren't sure if you're disappointed or happy about this.

Eventually, everyone is introduced- all twenty folks- and you sort of half tune out the conversations. Bellatrix asks some basic questions, trying to get the topic going underway but while some participate, you don't.

You can't stop being bitter about all this. It makes you not want to cooperate at all with Bellatrix. You want to make things difficult for her. But a part of you says no, because you need this. You need to do well on this. You need to be out there, back in society.

After the meeting there's coffee and muffins. You go to get some, feeling drained by all this.

You don't expect Bellatrix to approach you but she does. "Ms. Granger, or can I call you Hermione?"

"Ms. Granger is fine," you tell her, not liking at all the casual confidence she has. The audacity to try and be friendly with you.

She notes this and files it away. You can see it, see the way she is analyzing you. She's sharp and something tells you that while she was busy with her other patients in the circle, she was also heavily invested in you. And she knows.

"I couldn't help but notice you said you used to be a psychologist." She leads with this; you had been expecting a comment about your lackluster performance.

"You have my files. Why ask?" you retort, sipping on the mundane coffee in your hand.

She tucks her hands into her back pockets. She's formally dressed. Black slacks, flats, and a tight white shirt, tucked in and with the collar popped open to show off her heavy ruby necklace. Her black hair curls around her shoulders, chaotic and yet in place. You're jealous of her curls; you wish you could get yours to look so thick and healthy.

"I make it a habit not to judge my patients by their files. They come in with a blank slate when they're with me."

You don't like this altruistic behavior either. Who does she think she is, acting like she's doing you a favor by not reading about your past? It only hurts you to have to admit to it again. "I think you can gather why I used to have that job and why I'm not working at it anymore," you say, behind tight teeth.

"I used to be a psychologist too," she offers up, not swayed by your near hostile behavior. She goes on, ignoring your tensed body language. "I was brilliant at it too. Still am." Arrogant! "However, a series of unfortunate events befell me and I never was able to get what I deserved. I was bitter about it. So very bitter. And I still am to this day. But," at this she looked you right in the eye, "I was able to find a new peace. I have a semblance of my dreams held in this job and I get to help others. Others like me, and like you. Others who need help."

Her words intrigue you now. "Like you? Like me?" you echo.

"I have the same disorder you do. It's why I'm so good at understanding everyone here. And I hope you'll let me understand you too, because I want to help you. You still have a chance to get your job back if you show them you have improved."

She leaves at this and you stare down into your murky coffee unsure how to feel about her now.

The meetings are twice a week, in between you working at the local grocery store to try and scrape some cash together. You have money saved up but your house isn't cheap and you know your money will run out soon if you don't have a steady source of income. But a part time jobs the best you can do for now on such short notice. Maybe you'll find something better soon.

You listen to what Bellatrix says at the meetings and sometimes participate but it's not until the meetings are really over that you are active. After the meetings find you and Bellatrix talking together in brief snatches.

Slowly, your dislike of her grows into something more. A tentative friendship, maybe, between two professionals. She tells you all about her past trauma in such a candid and easy manner it's hard to believe she was ever traumatized by it enough to develop several coping personalities. But she did, because everything she went through is so fucked up, it makes your situation look like a laugh.

She'd been brutalized by dogs, been abused by her father and neglected by her mother. She'd been abandoned by her sisters, married to an asshole, and when she'd been younger, betrayed and taken advantage of by a man named Tom who was a burgeoning psychopath. This lead her to a path of drug abuse, criminal activities, until her sister Narcissa had taken her in and with patience and care, given the support Bellatrix needed to finally start getting better.

You, were bullied and witnessed the suicide of your mother and the accident of your father at a young age. And it had carried over to your adulthood, the trauma never being truly shaken off. Because no one had been there to help you. No one but you.

All of you.

Something about the two of you clicks. Bellatrix wears you down; you don't become so opposed to the meetings anymore. There's just something about her that's...so seductive in a way. You're not the only one to feel this way. All her patients find her charming and clamor to her, trying to get a word in.

But, she doesn't quite give them the same attention she gives you. She's taken a personal interest in you; and you want to know why.

"I see myself in you," she says. You find that she can be so honest sometimes that it masks the lies she's actually telling. You know this and she knows you've noticed, but you don't bring it up because you don't have it figured out what is true and what is a lie just yet.

Her scars indicate her past is true, that much is certain. But what of her present? What of her future?

"And that is why I want you to have your job back. I'm living vicariously through it, through you." She grabs your hands in hers. They're cold and smooth. You can't help but smile at her. Why are toxic people so attracted to toxic people? Bellatrix says she's healed but she's not. You know she's not.

You're not a ex-top psychologist for no reason. You can read people, manipulate them. Not that you like doing that. But maybe you can use her to heal faster, because unlike her, you actually want to be healed when you say you've healed.

It isn't until months down the road that you realized that Bellatrix only says she's healed when she's not, because there is no way to heal, and this is the closest she got and that you'll ever get too. Not knowing this at first gives you hope to try and try until it makes your insides turn and your mind melt and yet only at the end when everything collapses around you, do you know it's all been for naught.

But, before that all happens, you and Bellatrix end up trying to save each other like two drowning sailors clinging to each other. She shows you a world other than the prim and proper one you know. Late night dangerous rides, cliff jumping, drinking and dancing and learning to enjoy real life. And you share with her your love of books and art, and of appreciating the world in the small calm moments in between the storm.

Eventually the two of you start sharing other things. Like heated whispers, kisses in the dead of night, and body heat from slicked bodies, pants and moans mingling in the air. The two of you shouldn't be doing this, shouldn't be sleeping together, but what does anything matter anymore?

Bella, sweet innocent Bella comes out at the end of these moments, and you stroke her hair as the two of you lie there, trying to get your bearings from the way your mutual orgasms left you weak.

Healing. The both of you are in desperate need for that. Bellatrix refuses at first to see she still needs help with it and the both of you talk about erasing past traumas even as the two of you began to build a future together. You meet her family. Cold at first, they eventually warm up to you and your relationship with her.

Then she meets your friends and they too are slow to warm up to your relationship for it's unorthodox. But at least Harry, no longer stares at you with pity in his eyes for you losing your job and instead he is happy you're happy.

Bellatrix lets you practice on her so you don't get rusty. Histrionic, bipolar, borderline personality disorder. She does fake sessions and you love it because you miss your job more than you thought you ever could. You liked manipulating people into becoming better.

"Should we start with you?" Bellatrix asks one day, and you've become so close to her you know when she switches unintentionally. You don't switch frequently like she does, only because there's not much of you to switch. Only three of you compared to her almost double digits. She's gotten rid of some of them; you can't imagine what a headache it must have been before, trapped with all those opposing thoughts.

"My bullies. I want to deal with them." Because they're there, at the grocery store, visiting and taunting you when they can. Making fun of how far you've fallen. Your insides boil and you want to let them know how you truly feel. Memories of elementary school and how helpless you were fill you. You hate it. You want it gone.

Bellatrix drives you there, goes into their house with you. And even fights them for you. You never would have guessed her to be able to do that but she had spent time on the streets. It makes sense. After all, it's not the first time she's gotten physical. She's hurt you before when one of her alters gets cranky or too playful for their own good. You bear your marks from those times with a wide grin because this just means she loves you, right?

And you love her too.

Sometimes you wake up and find her littered with nail marks, a bruise here to there, and a bite marks where your teeth were, marking her as yours. Always yours and no one else, not even yours. You feel bad for the pain you could have caused her, but she only laughs and tells you that Lestrange didn't mind 'Mione coming out to play.

You always wondered what that alter was called. Seems 'Mione is fitting. You really never remember anything when she comes out. It's a complete blank slate. You should be happy it never occurs too often.

So when you read the headlines about your three bullies untimely deaths, you begin to wonder, just what exactly 'Mione gets up to. You close the paper and your eyes. No, you refuse to believe you could be a murderer. But the time of your black out matches the time of their deaths and no, no! You cannot be a murderer. Getting fired for setting alight your sexist bosses office was one thing. You would do it again because he deserved it. But killing?

You bite your bottom lip and decide you can't ever approach your own problems again. Or else. So you focus on Bellatrix's. The woman is not thrilled but the two of you make way in facing the dogs, her father, and even her long lost sister. Tom Riddle is the big end goal.

But things go sour even as the love between the two of you grows better. You finish your appointments with her, get your job back, and the two of you even move in together. But, then the murders happen.

And you don't know if you're not the one doing them. Because you black out suspiciously around those times. You know 'Mione came out. You know she did. But every time you're back in your own mind you can't find any evidence to even suggest a link between her and the murders. Could it be...could it be Bellatrix doing this then? She's told you she had an evil alter but that she's controlling her. You don't know what evils the alter committed but could murder be one of them? Could Bellatrix's control be slipping?

You don't know. You don't know anything. All you know, is maybe when you finally find Tom Riddle, then the two of you can stop this healing process and you can stop blanking out and having 'Mione take over.

Or stop Lestrange from coming out, if she even is. But you haven't seen her. Not at all. So what is going on?

Your mind is confused but you can't stop to think on it. You need to move forwards. That's all you can do, because keeping your mind busy keeps the others away.

But then you do find Tom and it's all a mess. Bellatrix in your house, bloodied and screaming about her. "She's coming. She's coming!" she chanted and scooted away from you when you tried to calm her.

Lestrange. So it had been her. Her all along. You're absolved of guilt and you feel terrible for feeling so good that it's not you but Bellatrix who is the crazier one, who is the killer. Because you can fix her, you won't abandon her.

You love her. You do this all for her.

"Don't touch me!" she screams at you and then when you wake up next it's in the backseat of a car and you promptly close your eyes, deciding you don't give enough of a shit to panic about what's going to happen next to you.

The next time you wake up it's in a house that's not yours. Lestrange is there, playing house with you. She wants to draw 'Mione out. Wants the two of you to become an unstoppable force. She confesses that together, the two of you have been murdering your issues away. Lestrange takes glee in this, you don't. It makes you sick that she wants to continue such a thing. Capitalize on this moment. Lestrange gets pissed off when 'Mione doesn't come out. She chains you up, yells at you, harasses you and yet 'Mione stays hidden.

"Where are you, you cunt?" Lestrange screams and shakes your shoulders.

"She's mad at you," is all you can say. Because you've never really been in touch with 'Mione so you have no idea what's going through her head. But you can feel her, inside you, on the surface of breaking free and yet she never does. What is she waiting for? Why is she hiding now of all times?

"Then bring her up, you bitch," Lestrange hisses and wields a lighter in her hand. "Or else Hermione gets it."

The switch is instant. You barely know what happens, except when you come to it's because Bellatrix is bleeding next to you and so is her sister. Narcissa doesn't move but Bellatrix does, groaning in pain. There's a gun in your hand and it's smoking. Did you shoot both of them? What have you done? Despair fills you even as sirens draw closer. You kneel next to Bellatrix, cradling you to her.

She's red. So red everywhere. And pale.

"She's gone," she gasps out, clawed hand in your shirt, dragging you closer to her lips. "She's finally fucking gone." And then her eyes close and you scream as they take you away from her body.

A mental hospital.

Mentally unstable, they say.

You're numb. You sit through the whirlwind that is your life and don't care. You can't care anymore about anything but two things, even as they cart you away to a white, white, room.

You miss your job. You miss Bellatrix. Your job. Bellatrix.

Miss. Miss.

Yours.

You scream and shake in rage. Everyone is scared of you.

Luna peers at you angrily and shakes her head as she watches you be strapped down. "Up her dosage," she says. And continues saying this every time you find energy to try and rebel. Up and up your med count goes until at long last you don't know who you are, or where you are, or what anything is, except for the scenario playing in your head.

Psychologist, runs through your mind. You used to be good. No friends. But good job. You always did a good job.

Bellatrix. Many faces. Hard to control. Hot. She needs help, and you can help her. It's your job.

And her...sister. Narcissa. Pushy, cold. But eventually nice to you. You can also help. And Draco and Andromeda. Ginny and Ron, friends. Friends you used to drink with. Harry, good old reliable Harry who accepted your relationship. And Luna...she's crazy, you don't like her. Hogwarts. She has Hogwarts on her mind.

Everything melts together under the work of the medication and your addled mind tries to the make the most of it. You stay locked in until finally the drugs are lowered and Luna is there, talking into your ear. Then, you break free, like surfacing from beneath a cold ocean and you gasp for air.

You're free. Free from your mind. But if you're free, so are the rest of you.

And you can't have that.

Bellatrix clicks the safety off and cocks the trigger. You spread your arms out and face her, putting up a brave face.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" she asks at last but her hand does not shake on the gun.

"We've gone over the minute detail of it. The trajectory, the spot, the way I will be treated after my injury. It's going to be fine." You inhale, exhale. You try to recreate what happened to Lestrange. "It has to be fine, otherwise what else can I do?"

Then you close your eyes, dredge up her. She doesn't want to come up at first, but you make her. She needs to be here for this. It's all meant for her, anyways.

With a screech she comes out, finally realizing she might actually be in danger. She wants to fight. To protect herself. Bellatrix is a threat; she must be eliminated. Your eyes flash open, a bright blue and your hands curl into fists. She's calculating getting out of this, but she won't.

Bellatrix nods her head and mouthing 'I love you,' pulls the trigger.

You scream. You can't help it. It fucking hurts. You get flung back hard and hiss in pain, clutching your wound. 'Mione's screaming too, but her screams are getting quieter and quieter as your own get louder and louder. The wail of an ambulance adds to the ratchet in your head. Bellatrix disappears, gun tucked away and you look up into the sky, eyes full of tears.

Tears you hope aren't out of regret.

Bellatrix always had an uncanny way of sneaking into places without being noticed. It must be the criminal background. She's learned too many talents there.

"Hi," you croaked up at her and she doesn't smile down at you like you thought she would. You're alive; shouldn't she be happy?

"This is all my fault," she whispers. "I wanted to be fucking free from my problems so I used you. Used you to do my dirty work because I was so tired of being the bad guy."

You don't say anything for a while. You lick your dry lips, the beeping of machines fill the heavy air. "I knew what you were doing. You couldn't help it."

"Couldn't I?"

"The same way I couldn't help myself. We can't get mad at what our alters do."

"Yes, I can. She had no right doing this to you. None of them did."

"Bella, don't get upset," you try to reach for her, she pulls back, voice choked with tears.

"They wanted to protect me any way they could and look where it landed you. In a mental hospital, getting pumped full of meds, and now on the dangerous list. You had to take a fucking bullet to fix things and we still don't know if they're fixed."

"I used you too, you know. Used you to try and build myself up."

"Yea, but that's fucking nothing compared to what I did and I wasn't even able to stop myself even as I knew I was doing it." She swallows heavily. "I lied about not reading your file. I read it. I knew about your bad alter and yet I made it come up more and more often once I figured out it's trigger. It became a game to me, seeing how many times I could pull it out. The rough sex was amazing but even more amazing was how you would do fucking anything for me if I told you to."

You already know all this. You figured it out somewhere along the way just never thought about it or addressed it. Because in truth, you didn't mind. You would do anything for Bellatrix. The second alter you carry in you sees to that. Maybe that was the one who should have been killed? Because it's obsessive love made even you sick to feel it.

"Lestrange orchestrated all of is. She planned on us being a modern Bonnie and Clyde."

Bella shook her head; she must be really upset if she's cursing this much. "Yea, but a part of even me felt it was romantic and didn't fight against the plan as hard as I should. I fucking made this all happen."

"There's no point on dwelling on things we cannot change." You sit up with a bit of effort. The wound hurts but you're fine now. "Now, are you busting me out of here or what?"

"Yes."

Five years later

As you lift up the bag of groceries you wince slightly in pain. Despite having healed, the wound still gives you a bit of trouble every now and then. A sharp stabbing and a flash back to how it came into existence.

"Thank you," Bellatrix tells the cashier as she takes the change and stuffs it into her wallet. The two of you hurry out of the store. You can never not be on guard. You know they're still hunting for you and for her for what's been done. Perhaps Lestrange did her wish to have a modern day Bonnie and Clyde because the two of you are being chased over the USA and have been already shot. Both of you have matching wounds to show for your love and for the healing you've done.

A hot wind greets you outside and you close your eyes against the dust it stirs. Your short hair flaps in the breeze. You liked your curls but you couldn't keep them. Your hair is dyed black and cut to the chin. It masks your identity partially. Bellatrix too had to cut her hair and you mourn it's loss more. It's a pixie cut, only the very tips curled because of it's unruly nature no matter how much she tries to tame it. And she's dyed her hair blonde. You don't tell her it makes her look a little like her sister Narcissa. You wonder what the woman would say if she could see Bellatrix now.

You pack the groceries into the dusty Jeep and then get in. You have a house together about a quarter mile from here where both of you work online for work. It was the easier option for financial stability. Forging a fake identity takes time. You write crime thrillers and she teaches online course. Life isn't exactly the way you envisioned it would be when all those years ago you crossed the stage for your diploma.

But, you don't quite mind. You're happy with Bellatrix and she's happy with you. Both of you gave up so much of each other to be together, perhaps unlike any couple has ever done before.

"Andromeda says she'd like to have us over for dinner at some point," Bellatrix says as you start up the car. Out of everyone, it's Andromeda who has not judged them. You haven't kept in touch with any of your old friends. It's for the better; you don't want to poison their lives.

"Tell her anytime next week is good for us," as you pull out of the parking lot.

And by us you mean just you and Bellatrix alone.

You haven't heard from 'Mione.

Or Lestrange.

All, will finally be well.

A/N: Just to clarify, Bella and Hermione still have their other personalities- they just don't have the evil and twisted ones. 'Mione was like Lestrange but even less coherent. I imagine her as a childlike figure who doesn't speak or understand her own actions but only does things based on anger and love or other strong emotions. The second personality, which is unnamed, is sort of linked to 'Mione. She manipulates 'Mione into doing things out of obsessive love. It's an obsessive love personality which gets unhealthy attached to things. It's more of a passive personality type and doesn't really come out but just influences Hermione and 'Mione respectively.

Thank you all for coming along on this wild ride. It's been an interesting three years and every story has to reach their end. Leave me any parting thoughts about what was your favorite scene/ moment in this story. Good feedback helps me create more stories.