Narcissa. A young Narcissa. Scared of her father, cowering in the corner always. The least favourite. It sparked something deep in Bellatrix. An affection she simply couldn't show to this mudblood. She swallowed hard and exhaled her affection into a prolonged sigh. "come on then, let's get this done." Bellatrix reached out for Hermione's hand. This was the first time it wasn't a grasp at the wrist, nails deep, and Hermione welcomed the moment. Bellatrix pulled her slightly closer and walked into the fire, Hermione following after.