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The Black Prophecy

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Hermione mourned each passing hour of winter break. Rationally she understood that in a few short months she would be free to do with her life as she wished. Not that she sought freedom from anything aside from the forced separation from her wife. The celebration of Christmas and New Years only served to remind her of how amazing it was to be in the other woman’s presence. While the young witch enjoyed her doting family and friends, she was relieved when she and Bella retreated to Timoleague for her last week of break. Unfortunately it had hardly been a lover’s getaway. The castle was practically a revolving door of visitors. Good to her word, Hermione had given the potions professor and new Death Eater a tour of her gardens allowing him to harvest any rare plants he desired along the way. Narcissa, too, made her presence known on more than one occasion. As was typical of the blonde, in times of stress she seemed to migrate into their bed. Not that it bothered Hermione. She was perfectly content to be under whatever spell the Black Sisters had cast. She hoped that there was no magic on Earth strong enough to break it.

But today brought a different type of anxiety. The Dark Lord had requested a private meeting with the Black and Malfoy families. The young witch could tell something was off. It seemed as though the very air they breathed was thick with tension. For all of the annoyances and interrupted moments over the last week, she was quite happy to have her family surrounding her today. In the light of this urgent gathering their collective power was assuring. And there was something decidedly romantic about having them gathered in her castle. Their presence made the cold stone walls buzz with energy.

They gathered in the MacCarthy family library as they waited for their Lord. The tea service before them was void of the usual playful banter. In some sort of silent agreement, no one spoke above a whisper. Hermione sought relief from the oppressive atmosphere by leaning fully into her wife. Bellatrix’s eyes sparkled with anticipation and mischief. The dark witch had no more information than the rest, but it was clear that she was more than a little excited about whatever was going to happen. She nuzzled happily into her young wife’s brown curls savoring the shiver her actions produced.

The entire room rose to their feet when green flames roared in the fireplace. With his usual flourish, Voldemort floated into the room, robes billowing behind him.

“Please sit my friends,” he hissed. His faithful followers did as he asked. He looked at the group of people he respected above all others. They were more powerful than the Order would ever guess. It was one of their most closely guarded secrets. The Malfoys were seen as such extremists in their blood purity beliefs that the public rarely looked any closer. They were feared for their financial clout, but it was frequently forgotten that Black blood ran through the veins of 2/3s of the little family. Narcissa lacked her sister’s flare for destruction, but that was more about personality and less about power. Draco still had great untapped potential that the Dark Lord hoped he would grow into. Lucius’ business and political savvy was not to be underestimated. What he lacked in magical power, he made up for in many other ways. And then there was Severus. He seamlessly lived a double life. The emotional demands on him were high, but over the years he proved his deep capabilities. Not to mention that he was the most gifted potions master in several generations. His general countenance was enough to make nearly everyone forget his parentage. His loyalty was simply beyond reproof. And finally the sonachuers. The women were, as always, physically wrapped around one another. He was quite certain that they did it unconsciously at this point. The Dark Lord, on a personal level, was pleased to see Bellatrix happy after such misery. Professionally, the growth in their individuals had been astounding. Their combined power would be beyond what even he could imagine. He would never tell them, but they could easily take his power from him. It likely wouldn’t take much effort on their part. But their focus was clearly elsewhere. The would always be powerful, but their love of family seemed to be their driving motivation. He felt a distinct responsibility to see them achieve that particular dream.

“It is good to see you all again. Thank you, Hermione and Bellatrix, for hosting us in your home.”

The young witch nodded happily. It was crystal clear that she loved having the people most dear to her under her familial roof.

“It is my time, my friends, that we take the next step in our disarming of the Order’s little revolution. As we discussed at the ball, Dumbledore seems to be aware of my horcruxes. he won’t be able to get the memory from our dear Slughorn, but that will only slow him down. I have plans to use the tampered memories to misguide the Potter boy so that we may fully execute our plan.”

“Aside from misleading the brat, what else is there to this?” The dark witch was pulsing with anticipation.

“Patience, Bellatrix. I promise you will get all of the excitement you seek.”

The witch huffed and leaned back. The Dark Lord struggled to contain a chuckle at her enthusiasm. “When I chose to utilize horcruxes, I believed that dividing my soul and scattering the objects would be the best way to keep myself safe. I never imagined that anyone would intentionally seek out and attempt to destroy the. Nor did I anticipate anyone ever finding out about them. But times have most certainly changed. It is a time for a change in strategy. Lucius and Bellatrix have you located all of them yet?”

The blonde cleared his throat to speak. “We’ve located all but one. We haven’t retrieved any of the yet per your last instructions.”

“Very good,” Voldemort hissed. “I believe that we should borrow the approach Hermione used in the Battle of the Mysteries last year.”

Narcissa shot a very displeased look at the young witch, which made her shrink farther into Bellatrix. Hermione seemed to be aware that she had perhaps not entirely paid her penance for her actions still.

“Instead of simply collecting all of the horcruxes, which will only lead to the Order searching endlessly for them, I believe that we should create fake replacements.”

“To divert their attention again,” Draco interjected eagerly.

“Precisely, Draco,” the wizard hissed. “Hermione, does that sound like magic you are capable of?”

“I believe so, my lord,” she answered quietly.

“What do you plan on doing with the objects once we have collected them,” Severus drawled in a tone that could be mistaken for bored.

“Protect them, move them constantly, keep them in Gringotts perhaps,” the older wizard answered slowly.

“I have concerns, my lord,” Bellatrix said gently. “One is already in my vault. I fear that alone will make the entire bank an unsafe location.”

“We could scatter them around the entire world,” Lucius said with enthusiasm. He was clearly thinking of the fringe benefits of such a decision.

“That has its own challenges,” Snape countered immediately. “The more spread out they are the more we will have to trust others. And frankly that didn’t go particularly well last time.”

Sensing that the room was on the verge on descending into a very childlike argument, Hermione spoke slowly and clearly. “What if there was an alternative?” Though she did not speak particularly loudly, the entire room stopped to look directly at her.

“What kind of alternative,” Voldemort asked after a long pause.

Hermione sat forward with intense anticipation. “What if we didn’t try to hide them.”

“You want to display them instead,” Draco asked in clear confusion.

“No. No definitely not.” She turned and faced the wizard they all served. “My Lord, what if we rebound them to the soul they came from?”

The others in the room gasped at the suggestion as the dark wizard stared at her pensively.

“It seems as though you’ve given it some thought already.”

The young witch blushed. “A bit,” she answered quietly. “The ancient healing arts have great potential. And if I am creating mimicking objects, perhaps I can find a way to reverse the process successfully.”

The wizard tapped his lips in thought. The witch was consistently remarkable and if anyone was capable of such magic, it was the Madames Black. “Then I will rely on your expertise.”

“I will need a more consistent means of communication than I had last year,” the young witch said boldly. “Narcissa, will you be available to help me?”

The blonde witch nodded her agreement.

“What about the vanishing cabinet,” Lucius asked.

“Its nearly finished,” Draco answered. “It should be more than secure enough for simple paper messages. We are still working on more complex objects.”

“We will move its location so that we can work more quickly on it. I believe that we have an impending deadline,” the older blonde wizard said beaming at his son.

“So we do,” hissed the Dark Lord. “Before the end of term, you need to be able to transport a witches and wizards safely.”

Hermione wove her fingers between her wife’s and squeezed lightly in a silent promise to keep her safe.

“It will be done,” the young blonde wizard said with gusto.

“I know that my trust is not misplaced. I will leave you all to enjoy your last few days. The coming months will be busy.” Voldemort stood and strode to the fireplace without even a look over his shoulder leaving stunned group in his wake.


Hermione strained her body into her lover’s firm touch. Bellatrix had made her come twice since the Dark Lord and their family left the castle. The first time, her wife hadn’t even let her climb the stairs. The dark witch bent her over the banister taking her hard and fast. Hermione could do little aside from hold on and shout her release at the demand of those devious fingers. When her muscles clamped around her wife, the woman relaxed a fraction clearly enjoying how easy it had been to get Hermione off. The young witch took the opening as an invitation and flipped them over so that Bellatrix laid prostrate on the stairs. Hermione liberally applied her teeth to skin as she exposed it to the air. She wanted to be certain that the witch knew she had been well loved the next morning when she looked in the mirror. To Hermione’s delight and surprise, the dark witch came undone before her knickers were even off. The retribution was being thrown unceremoniously over her wife’s shoulder and carried to their bedroom.

And so for the last hour Hermione had been on her hands and knees at the receiving end of Bellatrix’s rough affections. The dark witch hadn’t changed pace since the second climax and Hermione was uncertain if she would be able to stay conscious through the next one.

“Oh little witch, I assure you that you are more than capable of taking it. After all did you not take your liberties on stairs? Did you really think that would be the end of it?”

“No,” the young witch gasped.

“Then you must have hoped to find yourself in this particular situation?”

“I can think of several that would be worse.”

Bellatrix changed her angle in able to push more deeply into her wife drawing out a deep groan. “Come for me, my pretty girl.”

The younger witch could do nothing but obey. She melted into the bed and was subsequently covered by a warm body. She drifted into a dreamless sleep guided by soft kiss and strong arms that surrounded her.