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The Black Prophecy

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Hermione moved as quickly as she could in the hot water of the shower. Getting carried away and caught by Cissy was not a part of her plan for the day. As she scrubbed the dirt from her skin, she muttered wandless healing spells. As she rinsed the final bit of soap out of her hair, she heard the bathroom door open and then close. It could be no one but the blonde witch. She stepped out of the shower, exuding what she hoped to be confidence.

Over the last month, her relationship had been so changed that she found herself perplexed at how to act in front of the pureblood at times. She knew that if she were to be with Bella long term, the disagreement between Narcissa and herself would have to come to an end. And while she had almost formulated how she needed to apologize, so close to her wedding was simply neither the time or the place.

Out of the shower and wrapped tightly in a towel, she felt the critical appraisal of the other witch.

"Impressive that you were able to get cleaned so quickly."

"I didn’t want to keep you waiting,” Hermione replied simply and without emotion. She watched with a little apprehension as the blonde stalked towards her wand raised. Her brain whispered that the woman wouldn’t harm her, but her instincts screamed for her to defend herself. She breathed deeply, trying to keep her body as relaxed as possible as the woman approached. With a steady hand the wand traced her cheek gently. A warm tingle spread across the young witch’s face as she felt Narcissa’s magic knit a small cut back together.

“There. Now no one else will know the mischief you managed to find this morning.”

Overcome by the thoughtfulness and gentle touch, Hermione enveloped the witch in a tight hug and momentarily snuggled into her neck. She whispered a quiet but heartfelt thank you against the pale neck without thought. After breathing in the soft vanilla scent she’d missed over the past few weeks, she tensed after realizing why she hadn’t been near the witch recently. Soothingly the arms around her tightened slightly, not releasing her.

“Be happy today. My sister deserves the happiness only you can supply. Think nothing of the situation between us. There will be time for a proper apology when you return from your honeymoon.” The blonde nuzzled the girl in return, allowing herself a comfortable moment of familiarity. She was so very fond of the witch, in spite of her recent behavior.

In response to the kindness, Hermione was practically buzzing with excitement. As she ended the embrace, she allowed the blonde to pull her into the dressing room.

“We are, however, going to have to be swift. You did manage to dawdle quite a lot.”

“It wasn’t entirely my fault. Lucius did openly challenge me. I couldn’t very well walk away from that.”

“No, I suppose you couldn’t,” she chuckled in response. His playful spirit was one of the things that kept them so happily together.


 

After an hour of diligent work, Hermione was dried and dressed. The dress fit her perfectly. The only guidelines the blonde witch had given was that the gown had to be in her family’s tartan. Within the MacCarthy plaid were red, dark green, gold and white. After careful consideration, Hermione chose a shimmering gold fabric that would compliment any color in the Black family crest. The bodice of the strapless dress hugged tightly to her curves and flowed out at the hip before terminating in a train. The dress’ simplicity was accented by an asymmetrical twist across her hips and down the skirt.

Looking in the mirror, Hermione was shocked at how adult she looked. The last year had changed her so much for the better. She was so pleased with how she looked. Absentmindedly, she touched the Black family crest hanging around her neck. She watched as Narcissa walked behind her. The blue eyes scanned her reflection with considerable scrutiny. Apparently pleased with what she saw, a small smile graced her beautiful face. The steady slender hands, with the assistance of a wand, magically gathered the girl’s curls up to the crown of her head, allowing for only a few curls to escape to frame her face.

Hermione turned when the hands grasped her shoulders, placing a small amount of pressure. Facing her soon to be sister-in-law, she watched with awe at the beautiful piece of jewelry in her hands. “Is that the object you needed my signature for to remove from my vaults last week?’

“It is. This is an old heirloom from your family. According to my research, every pair of fated soulmates from your line has had this as a part of the ceremony.” Narcissa placed it into her hands gently. The older witch guided young hands over the golden diadem. “These knots have no end just as your bond to my sister and our family will have no end. Notice that half the jewels in the piece are your families and the other are simply diamonds. According to your familial lore, after the magic has been done the Black family colors will be added.”

“This is beautiful, Narcissa. Thank you.”

“Let me put it on. Turn around.” Narcissa slid the jewelry into place, securing it with a silent spell. “Your necklace does not match your dress. No, don’t worry little witch. I am not offering to remove it. I am not sure you understand the kind of rage that could send my sister into. I am suggesting you trust me with a spell to change its appearance.”

A visibly relieved Hermione responded, “For that Cissa, you needn’t ask permission.”

With little more fanfare, the older witch declared the preparations complete and led her charge downstairs to her distant relative to begin the ceremony.


 

The ceremony began as the sun began to fall from the sky. It bathed the horizon in brilliant pinks, purples and oranges. It provided an ethereal glow over the large crowd gathered to witness the event. All of the most important pureblooded families in England and Ireland were in attendance, each clothed in the colors of their ancestors. They spoke among themselves with rising excitement, such bonding had not been performed in several magical generations. It would be the event of the year. Such large celebrations were rare in years of the Dark Lord’s absence and it was far more than just a simple wedding. It was a declaration on the back of the victory at the Department of Mysteries that the Death Eaters and all they stood for were back.

Bellatrix stood near her Lord at the end of the aisle with Narcissa at her side, representing the Black Family. Sheathed in a glimmering silver dress, she stood haughtily to hide her nerves. She’d never wanted anything as much as she wished to be bonded to Hermione. She had no fear that the lovely brunette would not appear. All afternoon her beloved had whispered sweet declarations of her intent through their silent mode of communication.

As the orchestra began playing music, Bella felt her heart rate pick up. With wide eyes she gazed at the form of her soon to be wife emerging from the castle. On the arm of the half-blood Death Eater and professor, the girl seemed to walk on air. The dark witch had never seen a woman so beautiful as her sonuacher at that moment. The gold dress reflected the setting sun, causing her to glow. But it was the shining hazel eyes and smile formed only for the older witch that captured her attention. While Bella found herself under the spell of the young witch, the pair approached those waiting under the archway. With a small amount of ceremony, Narcissa and Snape placed the hands of the women together before kissing each on the cheek and taking their seats.

The Dark Lord stepped up to the pair, welcoming the crowd.

“My friends and dear family, I am so pleased to welcome you all this evening. It is my great pleasure to bond these two witches in your presence. As they are to you, they are most dear to my heart. And what is more, they share a rare and beautiful magical bond. We will bear witness to the permanent joining of their souls.”

Turning, he began the instructions of the spell, “Bellatrix, grasp her left wrist with your left hand.”

The dark witch softly took the bare skin of the offered wrist in a caress that stole the young witch’s breath. Once the girl took her arm in return, Voldemort drew his wand, touching the tip to the joined hands.

“Bella, will you protect Hermione regardless of who opposes her?”

“I will.”

“And will you take her family as your own with all of the love and regard with which you hold your own?”

“I will.”

“And will you love her above all others without end?”

“I will.”

Turning to the younger witch he said,

“Hermione, will you protect Bellatrix regardless of who opposes her?”

“I will.”

“And will you take her family as your own with all of the love and regard with which you hold your own?”

“I will.”

“And will you love her above all others without end?”

“I will.”

With each question and affirmative declaration, a rope of fire appeared around their wrists. At the completion of the last promise, the three strands associated with the vow of the opposite woman traveled down her hand, circling the ring finger and forming an intricate series of Celtic knots. The remainder of the spell were delicate magical golden bands unique to the magic of the women between whom they were formed. As the rings completed forming, Hermione felt all of the magic in her body jump, and she just barely managed to contain it. The raised eyebrow of her wife confirmed the dark witch experienced the same jolt. The magic coursing through her system caused every nerve to stand on end. Bella drew her into a sensual kiss, publicly claiming her. When the two separated again, the Dark Lord announced,

“Allow me to present to you, Mrs. Bellatrix and Hermione Black.”

The crowd, still in awe of the magic they had just seen performed, jumped to their feet, applauding the couple and drowning out the music. With a mischievous glint in her eye and a trademark smirk, Bella offered her arm to her young bride a moment before the two were consumed by black smoke and disappeared from sight.