Hello, my dears! This is my first Bellamione fanfic and I'll admit it had always been a bit of a guilty pleasure of mine. My fanfic home has always been SwanQueen, but inspiration strikes when you least expect it.

I hope that you all enjoy this story, and if any of you are avid readers of supernatural fiction (and lesbians), and you enjoy my writing, please check out my novels! They can be found on Amazon. Just copy the link and head on over. There are two books thus far, and the third will be dropping soon (hopefully—writer's block is hard). www. amazon gp/ product/ B073YDN85Y /ref= dbs_ a_de f_r wt_hsch_v api_taft_p1_i1

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Chapter titles are based on songs! So for this one:

Haunted by ADONA

Disclaimer: I own nothing and JK Rowling and Disney own everything.

Cold.

That was the first thing that Bellatrix felt as she slowly regained consciousness. Her hand twitched—fingers flexing with hesitation and an unsurety the Death Eater wasn't used to.

Am I alive?

Memories danced behind her eyelids, but they were fragmented. She groaned with weak frustration. A slow breath slid past her lips as she tried to sort through the memories.

She remembered the battle, Potter dying but then rising again, the battle raging once more—

Weasley.

Molly Weasley, firing off a curse that struck her in the chest and sent her flying off the bridge. She fell and fell as she struggled to break free of the curse. She managed to regain her faculties at the last moment, soaring away from the ground in a cloud of billowing blackness, and crashing far off into the trees.

Then it went black.

Bellatrix slowly opened her eyes. Her vision was hazy, but she could just make out the dark treetops above her. She couldn't hear any loud noises and wondered just how far from the castle she landed. She felt the cold, hard ground beneath her and could smell the scent of smoke waft through the air.

"Up, Bella," she muttered to herself as she rolled over onto her stomach. She hissed with pain as she slowly lifted onto her knees, and finally stood on shaky legs. She leaned against a tree and glanced through the tree line.

She could see the castle in the distance—what was left of it. She no longer heard the booms of spells crashing against each other or saw the light from them.

It must be over.

She looked behind her at the expanse of darkness. She had landed herself in the Forbidden Forest, just on the outskirts of the castle grounds.

She was in no shape to return to the castle to see what the outcome was. If her side lost, she would be killed on sight or sent for the kiss.

That wouldn't do.

If her side won, well…she glanced up at the sky. There was no mark hovering over the castle—which was something that she knew would be proudly displayed.

She had fought for her Lord for two decades through two wars. She had nothing to show for it now.

She turned and limped further into the forest. She knew that if she could make it to one of their safe houses she could remain hidden. No one ever ventured that far into the Forbidden Forest, aside from its inhabitants.

As unsafe as it was, it was still the safest place she could be without fear of being discovered.

She didn't know how long she had walked for, but the forest began to grow even darker—night was falling.

She didn't risk pulling her wand out to cast lumos. She needed to stay in darkness. It was her best bet at protection from the forces that resided within.

Eventually she stopped and closed her eyes, listening—then she heard it. A stream just off to her right, flowing quietly. Bellatrix turned and made her way to the brook, walking through it before coming to a halt.

She raised her wand and muttered the incantation, waving her wand as green light swirled around a moment before the air in front of her shimmered.

A small cottage appeared and she felt exhaustion seep into her bones. She was weak and injured, despite her best efforts to heal as much of her wounds as she could with magic. She moved to the door, opening it and stepping inside the modest space. The room in front of her was open. A kitchen was off to the left with the living area to the right. A fireplace rested against the wall in the living area and Bellatrix shot off a spell, bringing the fire to life. She headed to the back of the cottage through the open doorway and eyed the queen-sized bed with an exhausted sigh.

She quickly clamored on top of the bed, passing out without another thought.

Hermione sat on a crumbled pillar, exhaustion finally overtaking her body.

The war was finally over.

Everyone had begun to clean up the wreckage of the castle. They would celebrate later. For now, they needed to treat their wounded, bury their dead, and clean up the mess that the war had caused.

She looked to her left where the Weasley's were huddled around their dead son.

Poor Fred, Hermione thought.

They had lost many friends because of the war, and now it was just…over.

Hermione mulled it over in her mind. Ever since she had come to Hogwarts at eleven years old, she had been sucked into a world petrified of the return of Voldemort. She had stood by her friends and risked her life again and again for years…and now it was over.

A pang of loss struck her chest. She wasn't sure what she would even do once the dust settled. She figured she would work for the ministry, but after everything they had done she wasn't sure if that was what she wanted anymore.

"Mione!" Harry called.

Her head rose to regard him, and she immediately noted the look of concern on his face.

"What's wrong?"

"We've been recovering the bodies from Voldemort's forces," Harry began. His shoulders were tense and he looked off to the side anxiously before meeting Hermione's eyes again. "We can't find Lestrange's body."

Hermione nodded. She expected to feel a chill, or worry, or…something. Instead, she felt nothing.

"She was last seen dueling Molly, right?" Hermione asked, standing from her seat on tired legs.

Harry nodded as they made their way over to the Weasley's.

"Molly," Hermione commented softly.

When the woman turned and looked at her, her eyes were bloodshot red from crying. She sniffled and wiped at her tears, attempting to compose herself.

"Yes, dear?" Molly replied.

"We can't find Bellatrix's body. Do you know what happened to her, while you were dueling?" Hermione asked. She tried her best to keep her tone soft.

"I hit her with a curse, square in the chest. She went flying over the side of the bridge." Molly's eyes glanced toward one of the crumbling walls. "That curse would've immobilized her. She should've hit the bottom down there somewhere."

Hermione nodded and gave Molly's arm a light squeeze, showing her thanks.

She nodded for Harry to follow with a small team of their friends, and went to scour the bottom.

They must have checked every nook and cranny underneath the bridge within an hour, and there was nothing to be found.

"She must have broken free of it," Neville piped up. "Her body would be here if she hadn't."

Hermione nodded her agreement and continued to glance around the bridge.

"There," Luna spoke up, pointing toward a thicket of brush that looked barreled over.

The group made their way to it, following the path of the broken grass and shrubs.

They stopped short of the Forbidden Forest.

"Blimey, you really think she survived and went in there?" Ron asked finally.

"W—we aren't going to follow her, are we?" Neville asked. The slight hitch in his voice didn't go unnoticed by the others.

"She's dangerous," Harry replied.

"She's also without anyone to help her," Ginny added.

"I think we should leave her," Hermione stated.

The group all looked to her in astonishment, except for Luna.

"I agree with Hermione," Luna piped up. "Bellatrix has nothing left. She's also most likely injured and in there alone. There are plenty of creatures who stayed out of the war but are still dangerous; I say we let her fend for herself."

"Bollocks! Hermione, you can't actually believe she's going to just die in there?" Ron demanded. "She's a Death Eater, she was Voldemort's Lieutenant!"

Hermione turned to look at Neville. "Neville, she tortured your parents…I think this one should be your call."

Neville swallowed thickly and looked at the expecting group. Luna slipped her hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze, to which he was grateful.

"I'm with Hermione and Luna," Neville breathed out finally, drawing immediate outrage from the three opposed.

"Neville, you can't be serious?" Harry responded.

Ron blanched. "Are you daft? That deranged Lestrange tortured your parents to insanity!"

Neville's eyes hardened. "I'm more than bloody aware of what she did!"

Longbottom's sudden outburst gave way to absolute silence. A tear rolled down his cheek and his bottom lip shook, but he managed to speak as evenly as possible. "She's injured, she is the only Death Eater not accounted for. We have all of her accomplices and there's no way she would be able to even touch them now. Voldemort is gone. Killing her will do nothing but bring more killing. Let her rot out in the forest."

The group eyed him warily, but the three opposed nodded their support.

"Let's get back to the others," Neville muttered before turning on his heel and heading back the way to the castle.

Everyone followed him, except for Hermione. She stared into the forest for a few moments before turning and running to catch up with her friends.

3 years later…

Hermione slumped back in her chair. She had just finished grading another round of essays for her Defense Against the Dark Arts class. It turned out that Hermione felt called to the school, to return and be a professor at Hogwarts instead of work for the ministry. She was still put off by that place, even three years later.

Now, she spent her time instructing her students in all manners of defense and offense against Dark Arts. They had of course outlawed the unforgivable curses, but Hermione had argued diligently that the level of material taught to students needed to reflect what they would experience if ever confronting dark wizards.

Hogwarts couldn't keep their students in a bubble like they did before; leaving it up to upperclassmen to teach the others, like they had with Dumbeldore's Army.

Hermione excelled at it. Just as she did in every subject in school. Not to mention, she truly enjoyed her work as a professor.

She stood from her desk and stretched, glancing at the clock over her shoulder. It was 11:30pm and she needed to be heading out soon. She needed to gather some ingredients for a potion she was working on. She had been doing some research on ways to cure insanity caused by the Cruciatus curse, as a way to help Neville regain his parents—as well as help some of the other victims of various Death Eater work.

Even though it had been three years since the end of the war, they were still picking up the pieces here and there.

She grabbed her cloak and left her classroom, quickly making her way through the castle before venturing outside of its walls.

She needed to enter the Forbidden Forest for this particular ingredient. A rare moonflower that only bloomed once a year for a single night. Hermione had done her research and knew that some years ago there was a patch of these flowers found in the forest. They only grew near water and were extremely hard to maintain, which was why they were such a rarity to find growing in the wild. But, the magical properties, were enough to risk the danger of the forest for.

Hermione had avoided the woods since the Battle of Hogwarts. She never had reason to venture past the tree line, until now. She stood outside of it for a few moments, just staring ahead into the darkness. She suddenly felt like she was eleven years old getting ready for her first ever detention with Hagrid and her friends. Despite her nervousness at the prospect of venturing into the forest at night alone, she smiled at the warmth the memory provided her.

With a sigh, she steeled herself and stepped into the forest. It felt as if the temperature dropped at least four degrees as soon as the darkness enveloped her. Hermione pulled her cloak tighter around herself and made her way forward.

She recalled the directions from the book and knew she needed to walk at least 2 kilometers in, and then roughly half a kilometer to the right. Hopefully, the glow from the flowers would be enough to aid her in locating them.

She heard all sorts of creatures rustle in the trees as she moved. She did her best to avoid tripping over overgrown tree roots and the occasional Devil's Snare. For a moment, she thought she heard the sound of hooves and quickly darted behind a tree, waiting until the sound dissipated. Hermione released a breath and carried on until she came to a halt.

Her head tilted to the side as she heard the sound of rushing water. Her feet quickly turned and she strode forward toward the noise.

Relief flooded through her when she saw the flow of ink running through the woods. Her eyes scanned all around, and she wandered down the stream until she saw a faint glow. A smile bloomed on her face as she headed to the patch of flowers. She made quick work of them, picking a handful and securing them in her ingredient pouch.

She was just getting ready to head back when she heard the sound of hooves once more.

Hermione's blood ran cold and she looked around for somewhere to hide, but the area she was in was fairly open.

The noise came to a stop, and Hermione gripped her wand tightly as the figure came into view.

"Just what are you doing out here all alone?" the centaur demanded. His voice was gruff and deep. He sniffed the air. "A mudblood witch no less."

The words were said with such disgust that Hermione flinched at the words.

"Be on your way, centaur, and I will be on mine. I wish you no harm," Hermione said carefully in an attempt to keep her voice from shaking. She slowly stood, wand firmly in her grasp—but not raised to pose a threat.

The centaur pawed the ground with his hooves in irritation, and his tail gave a quick flick. "There have been very little humans in this forest since the Dark Lord perished. I intend to keep it that way."

Hermione rose her wand to fire off a spell, but before she had the chance—a bolt struck the centaur and sent him to the ground with a thud.

Her heart was beating in her ears. She looked around in panic, not having any idea where the spell had even come from.

"I do believe the centaur is right in demanding why you are here alone."

Hermione immediately recognized the voice and fear gripped her heart like ice.

"Bellatrix Lestrange." A shiver ran down her spine and she had to force herself to remain as calm as possible.

Bellatrix came into view then, her silhouette illuminated by the moonlight just peeking through the trees. Her hair was as black as Hermione remembered, with a silver streak of hair running just off to the side of her head. Her curls were glossy and cascaded over her cloaked shoulders, coming to rest just above her breasts. Her features were still sharp, with thick black eyelashes and heavy lidded eyes that Hermione always thought befitting of a seductress. As if Bellatrix knew what she was thinking, she flashed a quick smile that showed off her perfect white teeth.

The difference between then and now was startling.

"It's 'Black' again, pet," Bellatrix corrected as she walked to the fallen centaur. "Obliviate," she whispered the word as the spell shot from her wand.

"You—you're alive!" Hermione squeaked.

Bellatrix looked at her with disinterest. "Very astute, no wonder you're the brightest witch of your age." She rolled her eyes and took a step forward.

Hermione swallowed thickly and raised her wand in defense.

Bellatrix caught the movement and an animalistic noise resounded in her throat. "PUT IT DOWN!" she roared. Her eyes flashed dangerously as she eyed the younger witch. "I do one nice thing and get a bloody wand pulled on me. Fine, stay out here to be taken by the fucking centaurs!"

The dark witch spun on her heel and stomped off.

Hermione's mouth hung agape. It had been three years…three years that Bellatrix had disappeared…and here she was, hiding out in the Forbidden Forest under their noses.

To make matters worse, the woman had just saved Hermione from a centaur and couldn't seem to care less that Hermione had seen her.

"Wait!" Hermione called out, running after the woman who was still huffing and stomping through the woods.

Bellatrix stopped her movements and turned to eye Hermione questioningly.

"You've been hiding out here all this time?" Hermione asked. She wasn't sure why that was the first thing she thought to ask, but here she was.

Bellatrix scoffed. "Not like I had much choice. It suits me well enough. Dark, cold…mad." She let out a crazed cackle. "See yourself out, Granger."

Then she was gone.

Hermione was flabbergasted—stunned really. The woman had saved her and then…left. She hadn't bothered to toy with her or—

A sudden thought struck Hermione.

She didn't call me a mudblood.

Bella had heard the commotion outside of her cottage. It had taken her at least a year to feel comfortable in the home—even though she knew it was shielded from view with magic. The sounds would often catch her by surprise, and the events with the centaur were no different. She had reasoned to just shrug it off but then she heard another voice speaking—one that was very familiar.

The Granger girl, Bellatrix had thought as she shot straight up from her seat.

She flew from the cottage, taking strides toward the ruckus and waving her wand to hide her cottage from view.

"Be on your way, centaur, and I will be on mine. I wish you no harm." Bellatrix heard her say.

Bloody hell, she's going to get herself killed by a fucking brute.

Bellatrix crept up on the scene, waiting to see what would happen

"There have been very little humans in this forest since the Dark Lord perished. I intend to keep it that way."

She immediately recognized the centaur. Unfortunately, for Granger, this particular centaur had led many of the other members of his kind against Potter's forces. Orion was a notoriously sadistic fuck; one of the reasons Voldemort had implored him to join the cause. That, and the fact that centaurs were naturally immune to most magic.

She didn't doubt the…woman's, ability. She had given her a once over and noted that even in the dark, the young witch had grown even more defiant since the war.

Still, she acted on instinct and shot a curse at the creature, watching with rapt attention as he hit the ground hard.

She realized she was taking a massive risk by even allowing the other witch to see her, but three years of isolation had made her…lonely…for even just a passing conversation.

She forgot that the young witch had a tendency to get on her nerves.

The woman hadn't changed much, aside from the visible mature growth she experienced in the way she carried herself. She noted her hair was more relaxed now, and her eyes carried wisdom beyond her years—which Bellatrix found interesting that it was something she had even noticed.

She corrected the woman on her name and obliviated the centaur, still musing over this unexpected interaction. Having someone see her when she was in a self-imposed exile was less than ideal. She thought about obliviating her memory as well until the witch made an obvious statement.

Then the wand raised.

She felt her mind snap. It was always quick, like the sting of a rubber band.

Ah, there it is, Bellatrix mused as the brief wave of anger encircled her. She had gotten so good at controlling the outbursts she had crafted, but for some reason this one had gotten under her skin.

Perhaps it was the solitude.

"PUT IT DOWN!" she roared. "I do one nice thing and get a bloody wand pulled on me. Fine, stay out here to be taken by the fucking centaurs!"

The nerve!

She spun and took off back in the direction of her cottage. She could hear the witch running after her, and only when she was told to 'wait' did she stop to regard the woman again. She assumed it was the loneliness she adamantly denied that provoked her response, but she waited for the question nonetheless.

"You've been hiding out here all this time?" Hermione asked.

Bellatrix didn't detect any hint of malice or anger…just curiosity. She found it strange but shrugged it off.

Her composure returned immediately as the mask slipped over her face with the comfort of familiarity.

Bellatrix scoffed. "Not like I had much choice. It suits me well enough. Dark, cold…mad." She let out a crazed cackle. "See yourself out, Granger."

She willed the spell to shield her as she entered her cottage, and disappeared behind its protection.

The former Death Eater watched from her doorway as the young woman looked around in surprise. She inspected the woman as a look of pensiveness fell over her face, and then the smallest uptick of her lip in a smile.

Curious.

The woman checked her ingredient pouch and cast one last glance in her direction. They made eye contact—or as close as eye contact could be when one was hidden in plain sight—and then the witch turned and disappeared into the thicket of the forest.

She would have to remain on the low—not that it would be a problem; it wouldn't be the first time. For the first few months after the war, she refused to leave the cottage. Even stepping outside of the doorway filled her with anxiety at being discovered. Truth be told, she was terrified of being sent to Azkaban again…or at least wherever there were dementors. She knew she would get the kiss if she was discovered, and Bellatrix, ever the self-preservationist, refused to go out on anything but her own terms.

Therefore, she stayed hidden.

She magicked books of all variety to the cottage to occupy her time. Prior to her descent into servitude to the Dark Lord, she was quite the bookworm. She loved to read, and when she was attending Hogwarts she was often found in the library…usually sneaking into the restricted section and brushing up on the more challenging spells that they didn't teach students.

She had always been curious and intelligent. The two complimented each other well enough. Her curiosity led to more knowledge and more knowledge led to more curiosity, and on and on the cycle continued.

Had her family not been comprised of generations of proud Slytherins, save for her cousin Sirius, she would have chosen Ravenclaw instead.

The sorting hat had a bit of trouble deciding where to put her—Ravenclaw or Slytherin…

She chose the latter, not wanting to bring disappointment to her parents. She only ever wanted to make them proud.

She chose Slytherin to make them proud, married Rodolphus to make them proud (not that she had much choice in the matter since it was arranged), joined Voldemort to make them proud…

That wasn't to say she didn't love being a Slytherin, or didn't join the cause for what she believed in…well—what her parents believed in…

Bellatrix massaged her temples.

It had been three years. Three years of sifting back through her childhood memories and analyzing every interaction with her parents, her sisters, her suitors that could never be, and her life as a Death Eater.

Somewhere along the way she had lost herself and she still had no idea when that had occurred. She thought it was when she had joined the Death Eaters…but she suspected that it was somewhere before that even.

She loved her sisters, and she loved Andromeda—even after she had run off with that muggle-born.

But her prejudice against him…the way she spoke to Andy when she had found out…that wasn't her parents hate speech, that was her own.

Yes, the shift was before that.

Bellatrix released a groan in pain. A headache throbbed behind her eyelids at the thought.

She gritted her teeth at the prospect of having to remain in her cottage again for a while, until she was sure that one third of the Golden Trio didn't locate her again.

Isolation was fine. She was used to it. She was Bellatrix Black! She could do anything.

But don't you want more?

Her own thoughts betrayed her.

She did want more. She wanted to be seen as Bellatrix Black, before her crimes, but she knew that could never be. She had done too much, killed too many, caused too much suffering…no, she would always be seen as Bellatrix Lestrange, right hand to the Dark Lord—

At least that would be the image she would maintain.

The next few days turned into a week, and Bellatrix was hopeful that others hadn't sought out her place of exile.

She had grown curious and reached out to a few of the other inhabitants in the forest, those that were aware but wanted to live with no agenda, asking if there had been any strangers entering the forest.

Nothing had been out of the ordinary. She hoped that the witch had simply decided to leave her be, feeling that she wasn't worth her time.

Apparently, three years of isolation had made her too optimistic, because nine days later the witch was back in her part of the forest.

I hope you guys enjoyed the first chapter. There will be regular updates, so stay tuned for Chapter 2! Don't forget to comment and the like, as well as check out my novels if you're interested!