Bellamione - Possible ♡

Chapter 17 - Plot Twist

Hermione is trembling slumped on the floor. Is it all a dream? What's happening? Is she really Hermione Granger? Did Bellatrix Black really kiss her? Blood pours from her bottom lip and she wishes Bellatrix to clean it away again.
"Next time will be even better." the woman's words echo in Hermione's head. She feels more butterflies stirring in her body. "Next time will be even better." a drop of blood pours from her lip and stains the fitted carpet. Time seems to go so fast and so slow at the same time.
She stretches out a finger to touch the blood, and another drop splashes on her arm. "Was that a kiss?" she asks to herself. "A kiss... making me bleed?" she gets up. "Next time will be even better." she walks to the kitchen, where Bellatrix is. "No." the girl says.
The woman turns to her "What?"
"No, next time won't be even better... because there won't be a next time."
"Excuse me?" the older witch cackles.
"You heard me."
Bellatrix fastly reaches the girl and pins her to the kitchen wall. "What were you saying?"
"I... I..."
"Ohh, you like this, girl. Let all of yourself enjoy it."
"No."
"No?"
"Well... yes, I like it... but no, I won't let all of myself enjoy it. I won't let myself."
"Really?"
"Yes."
Bellatrix puts her hand on the girl's breast "Not even now?"
"F-fuck... yes." Hermione takes Bellatrix's wrist and pushes her hand away. "I gotta go now."
The older witch laughs in a cold, harsh way which makes Hermione feel as all the blood in her body was about to freeze and, once frozen, explode, shattering.
"You gotta go?! YOU GOTTA GO?!? You are my fucking slave! Where do you thing you're ever going??"
Tears wet the girl's face. She had never heard Bellatrix so angry... but she can recognise the fear behind her words. Not just fear, terror. The terror of losing everything she has, the terror of knowing, feeling it is all going to slip through her fingers. She knows it's unavoidable but she tries anyway to hold it, she closes her fists around her precious possession as hard as she can, decided not to let it go... but she only crumbles it, this way. She only accelerates the process... and through her contracted fingers she feels, and sees, the dusty crumbs of her now ex possession flowing and flying away.
It seems as losing, or as having already lost, all her life and now all is possible to do is watch it flow away.
This is what Hermione knows Bellatrix is feeling.

"Look at me, bitch! Dry your stupid crybaby tears and look at me!" the woman screams. "LOOK AT ME! WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING?? YOU'RE MINE, MINE!"
Hermione raises her sight and looks at Bellatrix's eyes. "So full of fear and terror." she thinks.
"I'm not yours anymore." she answers.
"Not anymore?? What's different from before?"
"The way I feel is different. You felt I was so yours because I needed to feel yours. Emotionally I was feeling yours. That's what made me yours. I was never yours because you locked me in there. Or maybe only for the mind I was... that, the locking me in there, could have made you think "She's mine." but not feel it. That could have made me think "I'm hers." but not feel it. I felt yours because of my emotional state. You could have threw me outside or left me alone in the wood and I would have still felt yours... do you understand? It's something that comes from inside. Now even if I'm here, even if you chained me at your feet, I'm not and I wouldn't be yours. Your mind may be telling you I am, but if you shut it up and listen to yourself, listen to what you are feeling, you know I'm not yours anymore."
Bellatrix's expression, to Hermione, is unreadable. Is she about to kill her? Is she about to free her? Is she about to shout? To cry? Hermione doesn't know. She keeps staring at her, trying to decipher her face. Bellatrix's gaze lowers, stops a few seconds on the girl's breast then continues lowering. She looks at her hips, thighs, knees, all her legs, ankles and feet, then it comes back up until she looks into her eyes and their gazes meet.
Hermione feels traversed by her dark chocolate eyes. They are telling so much. They tell Hermione about pain, sadness, anger, helplessness. They tell a never-told story about someone who suffered. Hermione feels it all. She gets to know Bellatrix felt so lost, she cried for help, she didn't get the help she wanted and she had to deal with her pain alone. She felt everything she made Hermione feel. Then she felt mad about all the pain she got and decided everybody deserved that, if she did. She cried a lot, now Hermione knows. She got horrible things she didn't want to get and she did horrible things she didn't want to do. That's how it worked, that's the juice of her life. The storytelling ends and in those eyes Hermione can now read only one sentence: "Don't leave me."

Hermione realizes how much can be told in silence.
Communicating in silence there are no misunderstandings, no mistakes, no lies. There is just what it is. There is the essence, the truth.
"Why don't people always communicate this way?" she thinks, and she also gets the answer: "Because it shows our weaknesses. It's so much easier and so much harder."
What Bellatrix said to her, with words, is that she owns her. What she told her, with eyes, is that she needs her. So different.

"Don't leave me." the woman's eyes are still begging.
"Maybe I should drive you to the door." the woman says.