Struggling to cope with the death of her parents, Hermione returns to the Wizarding World with no money and no job. She accepts a gig at a goblin owned strip club in Knockturn Alley and from the moment she meets Bellatrix Black, Club Toxic's star dancer, she knows her life will never be the same. She'd been warned to never to play with fire, now she's content to let herself burn.

"Someone's going to find out, they-they're going to capture me," she moaned plaintively, fresh tears pooling in her eyes as she got another gander at the wizard's prone, lifeless form through Bellatrix's curls, "Bella . Oh god, they're going to lock me up in Azkaban. They're going to give me the Dementor's Kiss." "I would slaughter anyone who dared to try..."

"Someone's going to find out, they-they're going to capture me," she moaned plaintively, fresh tears pooling in her eyes as she got another gander at the wizard's prone, lifeless form through Bellatrix's curls, "Oh. Oh god, they're going to lock me up in Azkaban. They're going to give me the Dementor's Kiss." "I would slaughter anyone who dared to try..."

A Bellamione anthology inspired by the seven deadly sins.

"Candy won't be what comes out when you break me..." "No, but it'll be just as sweet..."

It was all her fault. Her Hermione's. She had wanted this. She had begged for this. A child that would be the perfect example of how a true love that was a draught of equal parts forgiveness, acceptance, and trust could transcend all things. A child with midnight curls and liquid amber eyes and an impish smile that was all Slytherin who possessed a Gryffindor's courage.

You should not love that she will kill for you. You should not love that she has killed for you. But you do.

The day had started off regularly enough, a trip to Diagon Alley dodging Prophet paparazzi had somehow involved their child disappearing only to end with the two witches who had both been labeled the brightest of their respective years returning to Hogwarts.

"Having to choose between the two would be like having to decide between my heart and my lungs. I can't live without one, can't breathe without the other. But I need to breathe to live..."/"From the beginning I knew there could be no future for us. So I can only blame myself for foolishly falling in love with a witch who belongs to another..." (Sequel to The Weekend)

One year to right a million wrongs. One chance at a second life, the slate wiped clean. The stakes? Her life. Her savior? The last witch in the entire world whose heart she could ever manage to win.

Is age really nothing but a number? Some say yes, some say no. But with yet another birthday come and gone, furthering widening the already impressive age gap between she and her lover, Bellatrix decides to settle the dispute once and for all.

The Cruciatus Curse was a pain that managed to emancipate long kept secrets, confessions, hidden truths, promises, and sworn oaths from steadfast tongues just hoping for the agony to end. But for the one witch who had reveled in its unbridled and indiscriminate use at her leisure, in the very moment where it counted, the pain never came...

"Are you ready?" It is a simple question, really. Three feather light words. But the instantaneous effect they have on the witch to whom the question was posed, it gives them the weight of a two ton Hippogriff.

When I laid eyes on her, the plan was to conquer, to consume, and devour. Little did I know, she planned to do the very same to me.

When I laid eyes on her the plan was to conquer, to devour, to consume. Little did I know, she planned to do the very same to me...Prequel to The Weekend.

Five days of the week, I am his. But on the weekend, I belong to her.

Three months after the Final Battle, Hermione Granger makes a shocking discovery, one that just might very well test her belief in the concept of the 'greater good'.

To be loved by Bellatrix Black is to be struck by lightning. Twice. And you would have it no other way.