xxx.
it was a pretty good bad idea, wasn't it though?
(Bad Idea by Sara Bareilles feat. Jason Mraz)
__________
July 19, 1978
I've procured my cousin's hair and have stolen a dress. Will you tell me what your plan is now?
I'll meet you at the alley behind Flourish and Blotts at 9 am.
R.A.B.
Hermione smiled, imagining how Regulus might already be going ballistic at her deliberate vagueness. She hoped he understood they should keep their conversation about the horcrux hunt to a minimum. During her other timeline, there had been numerous cases of intercepted letters by both the ministry and Death Eaters. Hermione was afraid that the same might happen this time, seeing as they were steadily approaching the height of the war.
She grabbed a spare parchment and her turkey quill to pen her reply to Regulus.
I'll tell you everything tomorrow. I promise.
Don't worry; everything's going according to plan.
I'll be there at 9 am. Don't think about this too much tonight. We need all the rest we can get.
H.P.
Hermione tied the letter to Mercury and watched him fly out of her window, hoping for the best.
-ooo-
Although Hermione specifically told Regulus not to worry too much about their excursion tomorrow, the brunette found herself fidgety with nerves all throughout the day. Peter and Anya blessedly mistook her fretting for James' arrival later that night, and had merely exchanged amused glances between themselves and not asked any questions.
Hermione couldn't help but remember their disastrous attempt to break into Gringotts last time and how they were almost caught. If it hadn't have been for the chained dragon, who had abhorred the goblins for years and years of abuse, they might have been captured by Death Eaters and killed right there and then.
She firmly believed that her plan would go smoothly this time, especially because she was going to be accompanied by the Black heir. Still, Hermione couldn't dispel away the nervousness she was feeling.
By three in the afternoon that day, Hermione started to prepare for James' arrival, just so she could distract herself. Anya insisted on choosing Hermione's dress that night, reasoning that she wanted to help her daughter dress up for important moments in her life. Apparently, inviting her boyfriend over to have dinner with the Pettigrew family was deemed important.
Her mother laid down a sleeveless, maroon, floral Gunne sax sundress with a heart-shaped neckline. It was too ribbon-y for Hermione's liking, but she knew she had no choice unless she wanted to face Anya's ire.
Sighing, she removed her current clothes and donned the dress. She had a hard time tying the ribbons on both straps of her dress, to ensure they were secure enough. She tied the other ribbon around her waist, her defining curves starting to develop now that she was turning seventeen soon.
Hermione tentatively walked towards her full-length mirror, dreading what she'd see. 1970's fashion had either been a hit or miss for Hermione, most of which was usually deemed as a resounding 'miss', but so far, her mother had good taste when it came to choosing her daughter's clothes.
Her eyes widened a little as she stared back at the young witch in front of her. Hermione was starting to look like her old self – the old Hermione Granger – save for her blue eyes, of course. But the curves she'd been acquainted with before were now starting to develop on her adolescent body, perfectly hugging the pretty dress Anya had chosen for her.
"Well, you're a sight for sore eyes."
She twirled around and shyly smiled at her mother, whose blue eyes were glittering appreciatively at Hermione's look.
"Isn't it a little too early to prepare?" Anya asked.
Hermione lightly blushed. "I have nothing else to do," she quickly replied.
Anya grinned brightly at the younger witch and walked towards her. "He'll think you're lovely, sweetheart," she said, brushing Hermione's curls away. "There's no need to fret about it."
The brunette snorted lightly, knowing full well that James would have so much fun making her flustered later. Anya reached for her straps and tightened the knot. "We don't want any accidents from happening now, do we?" her mother cheekily asked, quirking an eyebrow when Hermione's cheeks reddened once more.
Anya stayed in her bedroom for a few more hours, trying to tame Hermione's hair until it was as passable as it could get. The Selwyn hair was a force to be reckoned with and the mother and daughter duo had already accepted that it would forever be as wild as their tempers.
Her mother pulled her out of her room when there were only two hours left before James arrived. Hermione distracted herself from her thoughts about the horcrux hunt tomorrow and James' impending arrival by helping Anya prepare their dinner for tonight.
Peter soon joined them, eyes comically widening when his gaze landed on Hermione. "Whoa," he breathed out. Hermione rolled her eyes at his ridiculous reaction, the corner of her lips twitching in amusement. "Maybe I'm a bit underdressed."
"This night isn't about you, love," Anya teased, noting disapprovingly at Peter's Muggle, flared jeans and a random shirt he'd fished out from his cabinet. "There's no need to change."
Six pm was steadily approaching and all thoughts about her mission with Regulus tomorrow were pushed to the very back of her mind. Her nervousness and anticipation for seeing James that night consumed her whole, distracting her all the more. Anya had to shoo her out of the kitchen lest she ruined their dinner for that night, and insisted that she waited in their sitting room for James' arrival.
Although the Potter Manor was connected to their floo, James told her he'd wanted to apparate instead. "I'm curious about your neighbourhood," he explained in his letter. It was amusing how none of Peter's friends had ever been to their house, even after seven years of solid friendship. Hermione had admittedly never seen where Harry lived, instead spending most of her time at the Burrow. Perhaps Peter knew that since he was best friends with a Pureblood heir, bordering Wizarding Royalty honestly, then there was no point inviting them over to their plain, Muggle home.
Hermione bolted onto her feet when their doorbell rang cheerily. She smoothed down her dress and tried to brush her curls away from her face before taking a mighty breath and approaching the door.
She gingerly opened the door and peeked outside, heart fluttering wildly inside her chest upon seeing James waiting outside. Her mouth ran dry as her eyes scanned his outfit – he had opted to wear Muggle brown corduroys with a matching denim jacket, donned over a plain, white shirt. This was the most Muggle she had seen James, but Merlin, he was still devastatingly attractive.
"Aren't you going to let me in, Whiskers?" he asked, smirking at her blatant staring.
"Right, of course," she said, stepping aside to open the door wider. She brushed an errant curl away from her face and smiled. "Hi."
James' eyes had grown wide, his jaw slackening when Hermione fully stepped outside the door. His eyes almost looked dark brown under the dim light of their quaint street. "Wow— I mean, you look—" He took a sharp intake of breath and strode quickly towards the brunette. Hermione shrank away when he reached behind and grabbed the doorknob, quickly yanking the door closed.
"Why did you—"
Her words were left unheard when James quickly pressed his lips against hers, furiously snogging her until Hermione had no choice but to press against the door behind her, just to keep herself upright. Hermione's arms instantly wound around his neck and she stood on her tiptoes, trying to pull him tighter against herself.
James pulled away almost immediately, much to her disgruntlement. "Holy shite, Hermione," he breathed out. "Why'd you have to wear something like this today?" His hands dangerously hovered over the ribbons tied around her shoulders.
"Um," she started, head still a tad fuzzy from his mad kissing. "Mum chose this dress for me. I really didn't have any choice."
James' eyes darkened as he lowered his lips once more, this time pressing them against the junction between her neck and shoulder. Hermione's breath hitched, her hand crumpling the back material of his denim jacket.
"Holy shite," he whispered again, his warm breath ghosting over her skin. He reluctantly pulled away and was grinning stupidly at Hermione. "I promised to be a proper gentleman today, but Merlin's ballsacks, Hermione. Dinner hasn't started yet and you're already making me lose my mind."
All Hermione could do was stare at him with wide, owlish eyes.
James cupped her cheek and stole another kiss, before he stepped aside and opened the door once more. He invited himself inside, leaving the stunned witch behind.
Hermione quickly snapped out of her hazy stupor and quickly went inside. James was already sharing a joke with her mother, the latter releasing a lovely laugh that brought a smile to Hermione's face. She had never really worried about James and her mother getting along. James had a natural charm which made almost everyone instantly like him, unless of course he decided to show his obnoxious, pompous side first.
Her eyes shifted to Peter, who was pointedly looking at her flushed face. She sheepishly smiled, prompting her brother to make a face and roll his eyes.
-ooo-
Dinner had been lovely that night. Hermione hadn't realised how much she had truly missed James, until he spoke about all of his adventures with his friends, as an Auror-in-training. Her eyes never left his form, boisterously laughing over something Sirius had stupidly done or how Moody had punished him, Sirius, and Peter for pulling a harmless prank on him. Her lips stretched wider every time he cracked a joke and would immediately look at her, as if wanting to see if she'd been laughing.
By the time dinner was over, her stomach and heart were full. Anya told Peter he should wash the dishes that night, but her brother had already given her a pleading glance. Hermione rolled her eyes and volunteered to do it instead, much to Anya's disgruntlement.
"This day isn't about you, Peter," Anya admonished once more, but she relented in the end when Peter gave her a smack on her cheek, an apologetic grin on his face.
James trailed behind Hermione when she went towards the kitchen sink. "You can spend time with Peter," she said. "This might take a while. I like to wash the dishes the Muggle way, you know."
He quirked an eyebrow as she donned the worn apron to spare her dress from soap suds and water. "I didn't come over for Peter, Whiskers, honestly," he said, striding behind Hermione to grasp onto the straps of her apron.
She stilled when his warm breath washed over her bare neck as he slowly tied a knot behind her. His hands then rested just at the curve of her hips, his lips a hairsbreadth against her neck. Her heart thudded wildly when he placed the barest of kisses on her exposed skin, sending a pleasant thrill down her spine.
When he placed another kiss, she felt his smirk growing on his face. "James," she lowly warned, her hands tightly gripping onto the kitchen sink.
He laughed softly, puffs of air brushing against her skin, as he finally pulled away and stood beside the brunette. "I forgot how fun it is to make you flustered," he smugly pointed out, noting the red splotches on both of Hermione's cheeks.
"I'm going to hex you," she snapped, but this only made him laugh once more.
"Why do you still want to do the dishes the Muggle way when we have this nifty, little thing called 'magic'?" he then asked, nose wrinkling when he grabbed a freshly washed plate from Hermione's hand and started wiping it with a dry cloth.
"Because, it's fun for me," she simply said. When James tried to reach for another washed plate, she drew it away. "You don't have to help me, James. You're our guest after all. Mum would go ballistic if she saw you helping with my chore."
"Which was supposed to be Peter's," James pointed out matter-of-factly. "We're supposed to be cuddled up on your couch right now, watching those weird moving pictures on that black box thing in your living room."
Hermione grinned. "Peter does his own share of chores," she explained. "But washing the dishes has always been the bane of his existence. Besides, I get a year-long supply of toffee from him if I do it instead."
"Ah, bribery," James said with a laugh. "Very Slytherin of you, Wormy."
She merely shrugged. "It's a win-win for us both," she said.
"Maybe I should call for Pokey to help you finish the dishes and then we can snuggle up on the couch." James waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "What say you, Hermione?"
Her cheeks flushed red as she glowered at him. "What happened to being a proper gentleman tonight?" she hotly replied. "And no, I refuse to ask for help from any house-elf just to finish something I can actually do."
"Pokey would be happy to relieve you from your duties," James said with a chuckle.
"No," she firmly repeated. "Let her rest. I can do it instead."
"Fine," James said with a melodramatic sigh, tugging another dish from Hermione's hand. "Just as long as you promise to give me another proper snog later, then who am I to complain?"
She lightly hit his chest with the pointy end of her elbow. "Berk," she said.
A sudden light tap from the kitchen window drew their attention away from the dishes. Hermione instantly recognised an official Hogwarts owl, who was clutching an envelope between his beak. "Can you get it for me?" she asked, her hands still soaked in soap suds.
James wordlessly nodded his head and swiped his hands clean. In three big strides, he had let the owl in. The owl deposited the envelope on the kitchen counter and hooted his goodbye, swooping out of the window once more, without waiting for a treat.
The bespectacled wizard lifted the envelope from the table and then paused, a huge grin appearing on his face. "It's heavy," he announced. "You know what that means?"
Her heart thudded in excitement when James tore the wax seal away. He shook the contents of the envelope and a blue, glinting badge slipped out and onto his upturned palm. A laugh escaped from her lips when James made a beeline out of the kitchen and into their living room, loudly proclaiming to her family that she was made Head Girl.
Numerous footsteps shuffled from the living room and before Hermione knew it, two pairs of arms wrapped tightly around her from behind.
"I knew it!" Peter triumphantly exclaimed, boisterously laughing and squeezing Hermione tight. "I always knew you'd become Head Girl from the first moment the Hat Sorted you into Ravenclaw."
"I didn't doubt it one bit," Anya added with a lovely laugh. "I do believe we need to celebrate, don't you think?"
Hermione laughed, genuinely happy that she had been appointed as Head Girl this time. One thing she'd regretted back when she was Hermione Granger was that she had never become Head Girl in her seventh year. Everybody had seemed set on thinking that she would have been appointed. But of course, the horcrux hunt with her best friends had been more important for Hermione. Still, it didn't stop her from wondering how it felt like to be Head Girl.
She peeked over their shoulders to glance at James. He was standing to the side, a brilliant grin on his face. A fond look settled in his hazel eyes and he was no doubt very proud of his girlfriend too.
Hermione lifted her arm, beckoning him closer. "Come join in," she cheekily invited.
James chortled but strode closer, easily enveloping the three as he was the tallest of the lot.
For a moment, there was no war, no horcruxes or evil Dark Lord for Hermione. There were only four of them, in the small kitchen of the Pettigrew family, happy for Hermione's small achievements in her life.
__________
July 20, 1978
"Going somewhere, sweetheart?"
Hermione's shoulders momentarily tensed as she carefully turned on her heel and plastered a fake smile on her face. "I promised Lily and Sev I'd have lunch with them at the Leaky Cauldron," she coolly said, hoping she hadn't sounded nervous at all. "You don't mind at all, Mum?"
"Oh, go have fun with your friends," she said, making a shooing motion with her hand. Then, a delighted smile appeared on her face. "Is it really true they're going to get married? Peter let it slip last night, but I forgot to ask you after we found out you were going to be Head Girl next school-year."
Her fake smile relaxed into a true one. "Yes," she answered. "They wanted to do it after I graduated. They made me their maid-of-honour, you see."
A hand climbed to Anya's heart. "Oh, that's lovely," she said. "I always suspected there was something going on between them, when they came over last summer." Anya beamed wider and brushed a curl away from her face. "Send them my love and congratulations, Hermione."
"Will do, Mum," she said.
Anya then disappeared into the kitchens and the smile on Hermione's face fell. Thankfully, her mother had bought her lie of meeting Sev and Lily. Now that she was alone with her thoughts, the nervousness of what today implicated came back to her in full force.
Hermione wiped her clammy hands against her denim jeans, before grabbing a pinch of floo powder from a small pouch. She threw it into the fireplace, waited for the familiar emerald green fire, before stepping inside and proclaiming loudly, "Leaky Cauldron!"
She reappeared almost immediately in the dingy Leaky Cauldron and didn't even spare a glance at the patrons inside. Hermione strode out of the pub and towards the brick wall entrance of Diagon Alley, before tapping the necessary bricks. She waited for the wall to open and let her in.
As soon as she stepped foot inside Diagon Alley, Hermione hid behind a dark alleyway and changed into her Animagus form. Searching for Regulus would be better if no one remembered her in the hours prior to their supposed break-in at Gringotts.
Hermione slinked through the crowd, dodging bustling witches and wizards, until finally spotting Flourish and Blotts. She slid behind the bustling bookshop and spotted Regulus almost immediately. Even from this height, Hermione could see how tense he was. His jaw was tightly set and his mercurial eyes almost looked steely like ice. He was leaning against the brick wall and kept on scanning the empty alley, waiting for Hermione to arrive.
The brunette then noiselessly changed into her human form, prompting Regulus to swear in surprise. She sheepishly smiled in greeting when he glowered at her.
"Some warning next time, Pettigrew," he growled. But then, he realised she had just transformed from being a cat and gaped. "Hold on a minute. Are you an Animagus?"
Hermione was unfazed by his bewilderment. "Yes," she simply said.
"Are you registered?" he asked, his eyes now narrowing in suspicion.
The corner of her mouth twitched in amusement. "No," she replied in return.
Regulus swore under his breath once more. "Sweet Salazar, and here I thought I was over getting blindsided by you and your bloody skills," he grumbled.
"Did you bring the hair? The robes?" Hermione asked, ignoring his comment and striding towards him.
"Yes," he clipped. "Care to tell me what the plan is now? You never replied to my last letter when you casually said we're going to" – he leaned closer and frowned – "break into Gringotts."
Hermione sighed and pulled out a potion from her pockets. She lifted the vial in the air, filled with sloshing mud-coloured liquid and small, foaming bubbles. "This is the plan," she said.
"Polyjuice Potion?" he asked, clearly surprised at her revelation. Realisation dawned on his face as he pulled out a black robe and a few strands of hair enclosed inside a plastic bag. "Well, now that explains why you wanted me to bring these." Regulus suddenly looked uncertain. "Are you sure about this? Gringotts is one of the most highly warded establishments in the whole Wizarding World. If we get caught, we'll be placed in Azkaban almost immediately."
"I'll be the one who gets placed in Azkaban almost immediately. Not you," she corrected. "I'm sure, as the Black heir, your parents will do whatever it takes to put the whole blame on me."
Regulus snorted. "I don't doubt that one bit," he confessed.
"If we get caught, anyway," she quickly added. "Which will never happen. Because my plan's fool-proof."
His eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "Your certainty astounds me," he pointed out, torn between looking at her as if she was barmy or terrifying. "How can you say that?"
'Because I've done this before,' she thought to herself, but didn't bother voicing out a reply to his question. Instead, Hermione grabbed onto the dress Regulus had brought. "Turn around," she ordered.
A small smirk now grew on his face, prompting Hermione to blush. "Turn around, you berk," she repeated once more. "Unless you want to be on the receiving end of my famous Bat-Bogey Hex?"
Regulus chuckled. "Bloody hell, Pettigrew, you were absolutely terrifying that day," he praised. "Potter definitely deserved that."
"That was years ago, Merlin," she murmured under her breath. Thankfully, Regulus turned around and faced the wall like a proper gentleman.
Hermione quickly stripped; her eyes still trained intently on Regulus, lest he took a peek. She then donned Bellatrix' dress and smoothed out the creases, grimacing at how ill-fitting the proper Pureblood socialite's dress robes were on her thin frame. Bellatrix of 1978 was voluptuous, with full breasts and curvy hips. Bellatrix of 1997 was gaunt and thin, her stint at Azkaban affecting her overall health. Older Bellatrix' dress, by then, had perfectly fit Hermione, who was more slender than curvy.
"I'm decent," she called as she waved her wand and hid her clothes.
When Regulus turned around and snorted at the sight, Hermione's cheeks reddened. "Shut up," she grumbled, ripping the plastic bag open and grabbing onto the hair strands. She popped the cork open, but before she placed the hair inside, she glowered at Regulus. "You're positively sure this is your cousin's hair? Not some – Merlin forbid – cat's?"
She shivered at the memory of turning into one accidentally, the mortification still weighing heavily on her shoulders. Ron and Harry used to tease Hermione about it, although she had made it perfectly clear that it was one memory she'd rather be buried away.
"We have no pets," Regulus assured, eyes glinting in amusement. "Mother forbids it. My bro — Sirius once smuggled a puppy in when he was nine and got an earful after that."
Hermione grimly pursed her lips and eyed the long strand of curly hair warily. It would have been better if Regulus had gotten the hair from Bellatrix herself, but she really couldn't complain now.
She placed the hair inside the potion and watched as it hissed menacingly before turning into a reddish-purple liquid. "Lovely," she muttered, nose scrunching up at the sight. Apparently, Bellatrix' Polyjuice Potion would still turn into a sickly shade of colour. At least, Hermione could be more confident that it was really her hair that was inside.
"Bottom's up," she said, lifting the vial up before taking a few, large gulps. Hermione gagged, swearing that it still tasted like bloody gurdyroots, before her skin rippled and bubbled. Hermione felt herself gaining a few more inches, her body shifting until the stuffy, Pureblood dress robes perfectly hugged her newly-curvy body.
Regulus watched with morbid fascination until her transformation into Bellatrix Lestrange had finished.
Hermione blinked and glanced at her hand. Her fingers were longer and paler, smoother too, as if they belonged to a true Pureblood witch.
"Please tell me it worked," she said.
Regulus looked highly disturbed at hearing Hermione's voice. "Yes, most definitely," he said, paling a bit as he surveyed her face. "You look like her, all right."
The brunette sighed in relief and hastily walked towards a small window with a dirtied glass pane. She peeked at herself and was surprised at how beautiful Bellatrix Lestrange of 1978 looked. Her grey eyes still looked piercing and cold, but her cheeks were smooth and full. Hermione bared her teeth and was relieved that she still had a complete set, devoid of rotten teeth. She almost looked like a younger version of Narcissa Malfoy, only with hair as black as midnight and wavy curls that Hermione and Anya could never achieve.
"So," Regulus said, appeared beside her, "now what?"
Hermione swiped a black curl behind her ear and looked at Regulus. "Every day, the goblins in charge of securing the highly guarded vaults rotate shifts and the cycle continues like that every three days. Most likely, whoever's going to accommodate us today will be the same goblin who assisted you last time," she started. Regulus made a face, clearly displeased, but Hermione continued. "And, as expected, they were suspicious when you suddenly wanted to withdraw a large amount of money from the Black family vault. Hence, they activated the Thief's Downfall."
Regulus scowled. "So you knew that would happen," he accused.
She rolled her eyes at him. "Yes," she continued. When he opened his mouth to protest, Hermione continued, "Just shut up and listen." Regulus petulantly clamped his lips together, but thankfully kept quiet. "Now, three days later, Bellatrix Lestrange suddenly wants to get a treasure from the Lestrange family vault. It might arouse suspicion in the goblins, enough for them to activate the Thief's Downfall. That would be disastrous, of course, because the magical waterfall will cancel whatever concealment or disguise a potential thief uses, including the effects of Polyjuice Potion."
"Then, the whole plan is pointless now, isn't it?" Regulus dubiously asked.
"It will be if the goblins still activate the Thief's Downfall," Hermione continued. "Which is why Regulus Black will accompany Bellatrix Lestrange for her withdrawal today. Your mere presence can already ease whatever suspicion they may have. Maybe say something that happened during that day only you and the goblin know – for example, the exact amount you withdrew. The goblin will of course recognise that and believe you are really Regulus Black and not some thief in disguise. You can also snidely remark on your unfortunate experience the last time you visited. Your family's part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight and surely you donate a hefty amount of money to Gringotts to sustain it. You can – well – mention something about withdrawing your generous donations if they chose to disrespect the Black heir today."
"You mean threaten, Pettigrew?" he innocently asked, a small smirk growing on his face.
"Whatever you want to call it," she quipped dismissively. "Now, whilst you distract the goblin, I'll go inside and steal Helga Hufflepuff's Cup. After that, we get the hell out of the bank as soon as we can. I've drank enough of the potion to last me three, solid hours. That'll be enough for this whole mission to be finished. Do you have any more questions?"
"Why yes," he drawled. "Are you fucking insane?"
Hermione knitted her eyebrows at his outburst. "What?"
Regulus glanced heavenward, clearly out of sorts, before gazing back at Hermione. "We're talking about breaking into Gringotts, Pettigrew," he insisted. "No one has been successful before. Granted, your plan almost seems plausible, but what if the whole thing gets blown out of proportion? Do you have any Plan B?"
"Yes," she deadpanned. "There's always the dragon."
He gaped at her. "You don't even know if there's a real one inside!" he exclaimed.
"Yes, there is. I've seen it before," she hotly retorted.
"You've seen it—"
"We must hurry," she insisted, pointedly ignoring how stunned she had made him. "This mission actually has a time limit, if you must know. I'd rather not drink another gulp of that vile potion just to get that bloody horcrux."
Hermione then squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, haughtily gazing down at Regulus like he was dirt beneath her shoe. "How does your cousin act?" she asked.
"Well, you got the bitchy part right," Regulus murmured. Hermione swatted his arm in retaliation. "Ow, violent too! That's Bella all right." When Hermione made another move to swat him, Regulus sighed. "Bella usually hates talking to those she deems beneath her. Goblins most definitely fall into that category. Just... just glower at everybody and stare them down like the perfect Pureblood socialite you are. I'll do most of the talking - then we're all good."
"Fine," she said. "Let's go."
-ooo-
There were two wizards standing guard at the entrance of Gringotts bank. Hermione surreptitiously pulled out her wand and coughed a soft "Confundus" under her breath, strong enough to make them disoriented and let her pass through.
Regulus glanced at her in surprise when Hermione undid the spell. The hazy gleam in the eyes of the wizards disappeared and they blinked rapidly at Regulus. "Ah, Master Black, back so soon?" one of the wizards asked with a good-natured smile.
"No time for pleasantries," Hermione haughtily snapped. Regulus quirked an eyebrow, his eyes gleaming in silent mirth. Hermione could see that he was deeply amused by her haughty impersonation of his crazy cousin. The wizard who'd greeted Regulus grew flustered and apologised quickly, waving the probity probe all over Regulus' body.
Once he had been let in without a hitch, Regulus leant towards Hermione in disguise and murmured, "Very good. I thought for a moment I was really with my bitchy cousin."
"Shut up," she hissed, pushing him away and squaring her shoulders once more, strutting forwards on the marble floor of Gringotts like she owned the place. Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see that Regulus was biting back an amused smirk.
Regulus took the lead while Hermione trailed behind, also lifting his chin with an air of indifference, which surrounded his form. It disconcerted Hermione how easily he could put on his mask. But then again, as someone who was actively participating in Voldemort's demise, while at the same time pretending to blindly follow whatever the evil wizard believed in, Regulus had to be practiced in such pretences often.
As they neared the designated goblin who handled the vaults of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, Hermione's footsteps faltered and she swallowed down the gasp. She wasn't prepared to see Bogrod sitting behind a handsome, mahogany table. Although the goblin looked several years younger, his features were unmistakably similar to the goblin who had assisted the Golden Trio and Griphook during their break in of 1998.
"Master Black," Bogrod said, surprise flitting in his wide, dark eyes. "I didn't expect to see you so soon."
"I'm not here to get something from our vault," Regulus drawled. "My cousin wants to get something in the Lestrange vault and wanted my company."
Bogrod's eyes landed on Hermione and the disguised witch lifted her head higher, her gaze unwavering. "Mistress Lestrange," he greeted. "It's been a while."
Hermione merely quirked an eyebrow at his address, but gave the tiniest of nods nonetheless. "I wish to visit my family's vault," she said.
"Of course," the goblin said. "I just need identification, Mistress."
The brunette tightly smiled and grabbed onto Regulus's arm. Regulus immediately recognised her call for help and strode towards Bogrod. A menacing glint appeared in his mercurial eyes as he leaned towards the table. "Surely, you won't activate that blasted thing again, will you?" he snarled.
Bogrod's face darkened. "As what I told you last time, Master Black, it is necessary to activate the Thief's Downfall if we deem an activity suspicious. It may prevent a potential thievery," he ground out, lightly glaring at the annoyed Pureblood heir.
"Ah, so you still accuse us of thieving? From our own family vaults?" he quipped. Anger flashed in his eyes like a huge thunderstorm. Bogrod looked slightly terrified by Regulus' sudden temper. Hermione watched on, mildly amused, knowing that although goblins were haughty creatures - usually seeing wizards and witches as imbeciles for letting other creatures protect their precious treasures - they still knew about the infamous Black temper.
"I didn't say that, Master Black," he huffily replied.
A dangerous smirk appeared on Regulus' face. "My Mother sends her thanks in assisting me the last time I visited to withdraw a thousand galleons to purchase her gift," he continued. "Imagine what she'd do if she discovered her Pureblood heir was disrespected by goblin employees of Gringotts. We donate a hefty amount of galleons to keep this place up and running, do we not?"
Bogrod paled at his implication, a small frown now tugging on his face.
"Why are they making us wait, Reggie?" Hermione spat, her lips curling in disdain. "We are Sacred Twenty-Eight, for Merlin's sake!"
"Hmm, cousin dear, I think we should send our apologies to your husband," Regulus drawled, his eyes never shifting away from the frightened goblin. "I heard Rodolphus has recently been rubbing elbows in the right circle. He'd be very disappointed if we did not get his treasure from his vault today."
"Very disappointed," the brunette echoed, her silver eyes also boring into the goblin.
The goblin looked deeply annoyed now, as he expelled a huge sigh and jumped down from his chair. "Follow me," he stiffly said.
Hermione and Regulus briefly exchanged triumphant looks before striding behind the goblin.
Bogrod led them inside a narrow hallway lined with dimly-lit torches. At the end was an imposing, wrought-iron gate guarded by another wizard. "I need Clankers, please," the small goblin dully ordered. The wizard briefly glanced at Regulus and Hermione before pulling out a small, metal instrument and passing it to Bogrod.
"You didn't use that before," Regulus pointed out.
"The Black family vaults are not guarded by dragons," the goblin flatly explained as the wizard guard opened the gates and let them inside. "The Lestrange vault, however, needs a Ukranian Ironbelly for added security."
"Well, that's just convenient," the Black heir dryly commented, glowering at Hermione who wore a triumphant smile on her face. "I wonder why my ancestors never thought of placing a bloody dragon to ward our brimming vaults."
Bogrod ignored Regulus' words as he brandished his wand. With a small flick, a screeching cart came into view. Hermione paled, remembering the unpleasant journey they had taken to arrive at the Lestrange's vault last time.
"I hate these bloody little things," Regulus muttered as he helped Hermione settle inside the cart before hopping in beside her. Bogrod sat at the very front to manoeuvre the small wheel. With another flick of his wand, they lurched forward.
The brunette instantly gripped onto Regulus' elbow, holding on for dear life as the cart passed through a lot of looping twists and turns. Bogrod looked like he was used to it already and Hermione wondered how he could continue sitting calmly behind the cart when they would quickly swerve to the left and right, almost toppling them over each time.
Hermione refused to look at the ground beneath, knowing that the height would be great and would paralyse her with irrational fear.
Instead, she stared at Regulus intently, who only looked marginally better than her. It was perhaps his Quidditch skills that made him calmer than the brunette, but Hermione could see he looked paler than normal too.
Her breath hitched as she spotted the area where she knew the Thief's Downfall would be if ever it was activated. To her utmost relief, no raging waterfall was falling from the ceiling and Hermione only breathed a little better when they passed through without activating it. Regulus glanced at Hermione with wild eyes, disbelieving that her plan had actually worked, but Hermione gripped his elbow tighter, wordlessly relaying he shouldn't celebrate yet.
Finally, after a few more excruciating minutes, the cart lurched to a halt. Hermione skidded toward Regulus and hit his back. The Black heir glared darkly at Bogrod, who was once again ignoring the two as he jumped down from the cart and started shaking the Clankers.
Regulus was unable to suppress a gasp when he saw the Ukranian Ironbelly guarding several vaults behind it. The dragon was still half-blind and bound to large, thick magical chains, cowering pathetically as Bogrod continued ringing the metal instrument in the air. Hermione felt sickly at how maltreated the dragon looked and was tempted once more to set him free.
'No, no, focus, Hermione,' she mentally chanted, forcing herself to look away from the pained, golden eyes of the dragon and to instead focus on the hairy head of Bogrod. Freeing the dragon wasn't part of the plan.
The air was warmer in this area, as the dragon emitted hot, puffs of air while he continued to shy away from the Clankers. Soon, the vaults were clear for them to walk into. Bogrod led the small group inside and stopped at an imposing metal door. He pulled out a small key from his pocket and placed it inside the keyhole. The door opened with a loud groan and Bogrod ushered them inside, still furiously shaking the Clankers to keep the dragon away.
"Be careful not to touch anything, Reggie," Hermione dryly drawled. "We don't want the precious Black heir burned by our precious treasures now, do we?"
"Shut up, Bella," Regulus grumbled under his breath.
The brunette smirked and meandered through the piles and piles of gold and jewels, careful not to touch any treasures, lest she triggered the Geminio Curse. Regulus fell back and stood near Bogrod, tensely watching Hermione instead of following her.
Hermione's heart thudded wildly inside her ribcage and she was thankful for the loud Clankers for concealing her heartbeat. She was finally inside the Lestrange vault, still disguised as Bellatrix Lestrange. Hermione feared that if she became too complacent, too eager, something bad would happen.
After hopping and dodging various glittering treasures, Hermione's eyes finally landed on the gleaming cup of Helga Hufflepuff. Like how she remembered, it was placed on a dais, too high to be reached without any means of a ladder or magic. Hermione rolled her eyes at Bellatrix' predictability. Her undying devotion to Voldemort really was her downfall, for identifying Hufflepuff's Cup was an easy task. Of course, she would display it away from the other gold and precious gems of the Lestranges'. It was by far the most valuable piece of treasure in this whole vault for Bella, after all.
The brunette spied a ladder leaning against the metal wall. With a wave of her wand, the ladder slid forwards until skidding to a halt just below the resting place of the horcrux.
Hermione took a deep, shuddering breath and started climbing the ladder, resolutely focusing on the cup so as not to accidentally glance down and trigger her acrophobia once more.
Once the Cup was within reach, Hermione pulled out a handkerchief to wrap the horcrux. She fished out her small pouch which was spelled with an Undetectable Extension Charm and slipped Hufflepuff's Cup inside. She then pulled out an exact replica and nestled it on the velvety pillow.
Her journey down to the ground was hastier this time, her heart thudding more loudly now that the horcrux was in her possession.
Regulus' eyes were gleaming in excitement when Hermione finally reached them. Upon his questioning glance, Hermione gave the tiniest nods to confirm the Cup was secured. A huge smile tore widely on Regulus' face, which was uncharacteristic on the Black heir, before catching himself and biting his bottom lip. His eyes then widened as he inconspicuously pointed at her eyes. Hermione grimly nodded, knowing that the potion was already wearing off.
"We must leave," Hermione coolly ordered Bogrod.
The goblin glanced at her and gave a firm nod. He did not give any indication that he had noticed her appearance starting to change and once again led them away from the dragon until they had reached the cart.
Hermione's adrenaline was surging throughout the journey back, blessedly distracting her from all the twists and turns. By the time they clambered out of the cart and into the narrow passageway once more, Regulus' eyes were wide with horror. Hermione briefly glanced at one of the dirty windows of the hallway and noticed that her eyes had gone completely sapphire blue and there were already brown streaks in Bella's supposed midnight black hair.
"Hurry up," Regulus quipped, darkly glaring at Bogrod. The goblin glared in return but obliged nonetheless, his footsteps hastening until they emerged back into the brightly-lit room.
"Thank you for your assistance today," Regulus coolly drawled as Hermione turned around to conceal her blue eyes. "I will give word to my parents about your efficiency, Bogrod."
The goblin looked surprised at Regulus' praise, before he puffed out his chest in pride and sat back on his high chair. "Of course, Master Black."
"I'm getting a headache from all the turning we've done," Hermione complained, eyes still tightly closed as she turned to Regulus. She lifted a hand and massaged her temples just to complete the act.
"Fine, we're leaving," he said, grabbing onto her elbow as he hastily pulled her out of Gringotts.
His grip on her elbow tightened with each step, noting that her black hair was now almost brown. Hermione held her breath when they passed their last obstacle – the two wizards at the front door. Hermione saw how their eyebrows were knitted together in confusion, perhaps wondering what had happened to Bellatrix Lestrange's appearance.
"Confundus," Regulus hissed, his spell hitting both of the guards. Their eyes grew bleary as they rapidly blinked, ignoring when both Hermione and Regulus walked out of the two, front doors of the impenetrable bank.
Regulus had, by then, broken into a run, still tightly holding onto Hermione's elbow, and only stopped when they had finally reached the empty alley behind Flourish and Blotts. The Slytherin plopped on the dirty ground and broke into shaky laughter, his grey eyes wide and bright with disbelief. "Bloody fucking hell, I thought we were going to die!"
Hermione, who had now completely transformed back into herself, slid on the ground beside Regulus and matched his laughter. "We actually did it," she breathed out in incredulity. There was no Thief's Downfall and no breaking out by riding on a traumatised dragon. Hermione couldn't believe that her plan had actually worked.
She threw her arms around Regulus and hugged him tight. The wizard stilled in her arms as he gaped down at her, unused to such displays of gratitude.
"It's all thanks to you," she gushed out, her eyes shining a tad brighter from unshed tears of relief. "If it weren't for you, I might not have been able to get Hufflepuff's Cup."
Regulus slowly relaxed as his cheeks flushed red at her praise. "Blimey, Pettigrew, this was your plan after all," he pointed out, his wide grin still stretched on his face. "I only followed your lead."
Hermione embarrassingly sniffed and wiped her wayward tears away. "Bloody hell, we actually did it," she claimed once more as a few giggles escaped from her lips. She drew herself away from Regulus and placed a hand over her heart. "My heart was beating so loud, I was afraid Bogrod would hear it."
Regulus laughed, "So, we have the Cup," he said. "What now?"
"Only three more to go," she said with a relieved grin.
__________
July 21, 1978
Hermione excused herself and went inside her bedroom, surprised to see Mercury waiting outside her window. She let the greater sooty owl inside and he landed elegantly on her wooden desk. She quickly untied the parchment from his leg. Hermione grabbed a few treats and offered it to Mercury while she unrolled the parchment.
Which you-know-what should we get next?
R.A.B.
Hermione rolled her eyes, as she had specifically told Regulus they should rest for a while after such an exhausting mission. Exasperated by his persistence, she grabbed a spare bit of parchment and penned her reply.
I think the next best thing to procure is the diary. I am hoping you are well acquainted with the Malfoys?
H.P.
-ooo-
Why am I even surprised the Malfoys are involved? Their family's been kissing you-know-who's arse since time immemorial.
Yes, I am well acquainted with the Malfoys. My other cousin, Cissa, is actually quite fond of me. Retrieving the diary will be easier than the cup ironically, but we have to wait. I cannot just drop by the Malfoy Manor without any decent excuse. There will be a ball at the Manor at Christmas, though. You don't even need to get involved. I practically grew up running around the Manor. I already have an idea as to where they're keeping the diary.
R.A.B.
Hermione sighed and crumpled Regulus' latest letter. She knew she told him they should rest, but Hermione was disappointed about waiting until Christmas just to procure the next horcrux. On a brighter note, Regulus did say she didn't need to get involved, which was a relief. Although she had impersonated the very person who had tortured Hermione Granger, she still felt queasy at the thought of walking through the walls of the place where her torture had taken place.
She penned a quick reply, agreeing to his words, and sent Mercury back to his master.
As Hermione tucked herself back in bed, she eyed her trunk warily. Knowing there were already two horcruxes housed inside, made her very uncomfortable. Hermione debated whether she wanted to get Dumbledore involved now. On one hand, the Headmaster would surely know how to destroy the horcruxes. With his magic prowess, there was no doubt he'd be able to produce a Fiendyre to destroy them all. However, Hermione still hadn't forgiven Dumbledore for keeping a lot of secrets from her, from Harry, which had been essential in bringing Voldemort down. If he had not spoken in riddles for years, making them figure everything out by themselves, then perhaps Harry and Hermione wouldn't have been forced to resort to brewing a dubious potion that would whisk them away from all the chaos.
She also had this inkling that Dumbledore would bar her from being actively involved in procuring all the horcruxes. Of course, she knew how reckless she was being, putting herself and Regulus in constant danger, but Hermione wanted to make sure the horcruxes were truly collected.
So no, perhaps it wasn't time to tell Dumbledore yet.
As exhaustion came and sleep couldn't be fought off anymore, Hermione made a silent vow to herself that once things got very dangerous and hard, she'd tell Dumbledore.