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Hermione stared in horror at the crazed woman that had her trapped. She’d retreated from the swiftly advancing figure, but her back was now pressed against the countertop, and she couldn’t escape.
Unhinged black eyes bored intently into hers, and she had an unsettling flashback to that night in Malfoy Manor.
Holding her hands up to both try to placate the seemingly deranged witch and stop her advancing any further, she urgently questioned, “Bella, what in Circe’s name is wrong with you?”
“Nothing.” Bellatrix snarled, her crimson mouth twisting into a derisive scowl. “I just want a drink pet. Is that too much to ask?”
As she spoke, Bellatrix slid sideways, obviously trying to get closer to the counter. Her hands snaked out with the unclear aim of either trying to fend off Hermione’s grasp or to reach around her.
Hermione’s attention was drawn to Bellatrix’s hands as she caught a glimpse of an unexpected, subtle tremor that shook those lithe white fingers. Undeterred by the 'keep your distance' attitude the dark witch habitually exuded - although not normally directed at her - she grabbed Bellatrix’s hands in hers.
As she laced their fingers together, her concern grew exponentially. She could now feel minute twitches that were causing Bellatrix’s fingers to tremble, and, from the frequency of the spasms, they were evidently something that she couldn’t control. Hermione ducked down slightly, forcing the witch, whose attention was now fixated on their joined hands, to meet her worried gaze.
The unfettered anger that had previously been seething in the dark depths had gone, drowned by the regret and distress that were now evident after the unexpected outburst.
She watched as Bellatrix swallowed convulsively, her eyes momentarily meeting Hermione’s as she peered up guiltily from underneath wild black curls before they flitted around the room as she composed herself. After several long seconds, Bellatrix grimaced, then took a breath, dark eyes meeting Hermione’s once more. Before she could speak, Hermione gently squeezed her fingers in acknowledgement of her unspoken apology, offering her own in exchange. She knew whatever was going on must be something serious to get Bellatrix so worked up, she so rarely lost her cool these days. Truthfully, Hermione felt awful as well because she hadn’t noticed that anything was wrong, which meant she didn’t know how long Bellatrix had been hiding her concerns about her health from her.
A precise mastery and precision over the wand’s movement was a prerequisite when casting the most complex spells. Those spells, ones in which Bellatrix excelled, had gained her a well-earned reputation as the best Auror the DMLE had, and her talents meant her skills and knowledge were sought for their most difficult cases. A tremor at the wrong time when executing any spell could be disastrous, but at the level Bellatrix wielded her magic, it would be catastrophic.
Hermione knew that the unexplained loss of such fine control would be unnerving in the extreme to Bellatrix. Her magic was intrinsic to her being and anything that affected that would completely unsettle her. Therefore, this uncertainty was, she decided, the most likely source of this unexpected and unwelcome outburst. Fortunately for them both she had an idea as to the source of the issue.
Rubbing her thumbs gently over the back of Bellatrix’s hands, she put aside her own anxiety and guilt, and asked calmly, “How many drinks have you had today, Bella?”
Bellatrix looked at her, raising her expressive eyebrows quizzically.
“How many?” Hermione repeated, hoping her eyes conveyed the seriousness of her request.
Bellatrix’s mouth shaped into a moue and she glanced towards the door, possibly wondering whether she could escape this inquisition, then she huffed and glared at Hermione before boldly, even proudly, confessing, “10, well… maybe 11.”
Hermione was aghast, “Bella!!”
“What?” Bellatrix replied defensively, before qualifying her answer “Pet, they are only teeny, little things. Positively elf sized.”
Grimacing, Hermione couldn’t prevent herself saying, “Bella, you shouldn’t be drinking that much! It’s not good for you!”
She knew as soon as the words came tumbling out of her mouth that it was a mistake. Bellatrix’s expression changed in an instant to mulishly mutinous.
“Why not? I enjoy it and it makes me feel great!”
Hermione groaned at her reply, “Merlin. No wonder you’re not feeling well. You can’t drink that many espressos in a morning. You’ve got the jitters.”
Bellatrix straightened, indignantly attempting to pull her hands free from Hermione’s, “I do not have any disgusting muggle insects anywhere about my person. How dare you suggest that I, as a member of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, do.”
Hermione briefly thought if the situation hadn’t been so fraught, she would have taken great delight in trying to persuade Bella to allow her to search, with the most lovingly devoted attention, every nook and cranny of her gorgeous body to see if she could locate any of those pesky insects. Mentally licking her lips at the thought, she dragged her lustfully wandering brain back to the moment and the irate woman in front of her.
Quickly she explained, “The jitters aren’t insects, Bella. Coffee contains caffeine, and too much caffeine has side effects which are called the jitters. It can make a person irritable and restless, and it can give them tremors,” at which point Hermione squeezed Bellatrix’s twitchy fingers firmly to illustrate her point, “plus headaches, insomnia, it can even suppress your appetite.”
Hermione sighed unhappily, as she acknowledged, “Unfortunately for you - and for me, in being able to spot the impact the caffeine was having on you - bouts of insomnia, restlessness and occasional irritability are pretty much your status quo.”
Hermione's lips twitched as she held back the threatening grin as she watched Bellatrix’s expression slowly shift from offended to disgruntled comprehension as she processed her explanation, along with the accurate identification of some of the unwanted aftereffects from her previous lifestyle that still lingered.
She sobered as she continued as, even so, she did feel partly responsible for the situation in which Bellatrix found herself.
“When we got the coffee machine, I didn’t think to warn you about the dangers of drinking too much of it. I should have anticipated that, given your ability to drink gallons of tea, you would overdo it.”
Mercifully Bellatrix looked mollified at her apology and Hermione felt herself relax back against the counter pulling Bellatrix in her embrace and burying her face into her cinnamon scented curls, relieved that there was such a simple explanation and solution to the issue.
After mulling it over briefly, Hermione raised her head and stated confidently, “Bella everything should go back to normal, well… your version of normal… once you cut down on the coffee. It will probably be hard to start with, because you’re probably addicted to the stuff, but no more than… say… 4 cups a day, maximum. Promise?”
Bellatrix lifted their still joined hands and wiggled her fingers expressively.
Hermione felt a relieved smile break out at Bella’s response and gladly confirmed, “Palpitations… tremors… gone.”
Sighing in resignation, Bellatrix nodded solemnly, “I promise, pet. From now on, four cups and then I’ll stick to my safe tea.”
“Thank you, Bella.” Bellatrix’s swift capitulation to her proposal made Hermione wonder just how long she’d been suffering from the fallout of the caffeine overdose, but never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, she gave the woman in her arms a playful squeeze. “So, Madam Black, would you like a drink now?”
“Yes.” Bellatrix smirked and waited a beat, as Hermione couldn’t hold back her astonished expression, before she continued, “I’ll have a fire whiskey…. In fact, make it a double.”
"Bella!!!"