Author Note: Haphne starts in Chapter 5
Hermione nearly dragged her feet as she approached the bank tellers at Gringotts. Some of the goblin tellers only briefly glanced up as she stumbled past them, which only added to her nervousness. She wondered how Bellatrix could possibly walk in these high heels. Once she got to the counter, the goblin teller didn't even spare her so much as a glance. He fixated on his notebook and completely ignored Hermione. "Unhem." Hermione cleared her throat, which still earned her no reaction. After a brief moment of awkward silence, she finally spoke. "I would like access to my vault please." She bit her lip at the realization that Bellatrix would never say please. "Now!" She corrected herself. The goblin teller finally looked up with an expression of surprise on his face. "Oh, Miss LeStrange. Certainly, but first I will need to see your identification," the goblin informed her.
"Look at me. You KNOW who I am," Hermione spat. Then she heard whispers amongst the tellers, clearly suspicious of her being an imposter. She realized this wasn't going to work. She could hear her heart pounding inside her chest as she feared the gig was up. Someone she didn't notice grabbed her hand. "What," she glanced at the man who now stood next to her. Her eyes opened wide, and the words died inside her throat. Of course, she recognized him. He was the Death Eater that almost killed her at the Department of Mysteries.
"What are you doing here? Our lord needs us now," Antonin declared. Without even waiting for an answer, he whisked Hermione away using a portkey of some kind.
Ron and Harry looked on horrified. They knew if that potion wears off Hermione would be dead, sooner if the Death Eater realized she was an imposter.
"They mistook you for an imposter, so I had to get you out of there," Antonin informed Hermione.
"So, ah, our lord doesn't really need us right now?" Hermione questioned as she secretly prayed her Polyjuice potion wouldn't wear off. She looked around trying to get a sense of where she was. It looked like the inside of a log cabin with dark wood log walls on all sides. Small windows only allowed for minimal outside light to stream in, but the room was still well lit with unnatural blueish green fiery lighting. She could see the sparkle in his eyes and an unmistakable look of desire.
"No, but I need you."
She realized she was in trouble now. She didn't want to kiss him, but he leaned in and kissed her anyway. As their lips met, his lips were soft and inviting with an unexpected minty freshness. She felt a jolt of electricity run through her body, and her knees went weak. He pulled her closer, deepening the kiss, and she lost herself in the sensation. For a moment, nothing else mattered but the feel of his lips on hers, the heat of his body against hers, and overwhelming desire. This was truly one of the best kisses Hermione ever experienced, but she knew it was wrong.
She pushed him away and slapped him. "Just a slap. You are weakening," Antonin smirked.
Hermione realized she needed to do a better job pretending to be Bellatrix or she would be dead. She whipped out her wand. "If you try that again, I will crucio you," she threatened him. Her hand shook.
"Worth it! You could crucio me, and I would still want you," Antonin declared with a surprising amount of sincerity in his voice. "There were nights in Azkaban, I heard your screams and I imagined it was me making you scream, in delight." He gently raked his fingers through her hair. "It is part of what kept me sane all those years."
Hermione took a few steps back and let out a nervous chuckle not really knowing how to answer that. As for his sanity, she had serious doubts. She knew she had to think of something fast or she was dead. That Polyjuice potion wearing off was just a matter of time.