Chapter Text
Hermione watched as tens of parents walked up to the registration desk, and picked up the Summer Program Packet. They would flip through it briefly, before being read the rules and risks from the tired woman sitting in the ripped office chair. Then, the parents would leave, with less people than when they walked in.
She poked sadly at the dried, old lump of Play-Doh in front of her. It crumbled apart at her touch, sinking down into a pile of little pieces. Hermione felt rather like the Play-Doh at camp. Dried-out and old. How could she not? Thirteen year olds don’t belong at summer camp. A group of fourth-graders were huddled around behind her, babbling on about some inside joke that every kid except her seemed to know about. Their high-pitched peals of laughter felt like small knives in her ears.
The wafting smell of Lysol told Hermione that someone — likely a fourth grader named Peter — had seen their most recent meal all over the floor, and it wasn’t even 8:30 yet. Amidst the chaos, she heard the loud, high pitched noise of a kid screaming, followed by wails and sobs. While the sound of a child in distress wasn’t uncommon at camp, this one made her heart ache more than it usually did. She looked up from the pile of Play-Doh dust to see a small girl that she didn’t recognize pressed up against the metal doors, tears streaming down her face. Near her were two identical-looking girls. One seemed to be trying to comfort the child, the other was sitting next to her, looking like she was about to scream in anger. Hermione grabbed the only un-dried can of Play-Doh on the shelf. It was the same shade of pink as the crying girl’s shirt. Perfect!
As Hermione approached them, the girl sitting on the ground hid her head in her arms. Hermione looked at her sadly and made her way over to the crying girl.
“Hey,” Hermione said, softly. “It’s alright, would you like to play with some Play-Doh?” She held out the pink can. The crying girl wiped her nose with her sleeve and nodded, looking up at Hermione with watery blue eyes. The girl took the van and sat down, in the middle of the floor, emptying the last perfect can of Play-Doh out onto the dusty floor. Hermione cringed a little as she watched the pink blob pick up all the dirt, gravel, and hair on the ground.
“Kindies!” A counsellor — Daphne — called, over the ear-splitting sound of nearly one-hundred children in a small room. As expected, none of the kindergarten kids answered to the call. So, Daphne had to wrangle up every kid that had the blue sticker on their shirts, which included the crying girl.
Annabelle called the eighth grade kids over, and, to Hermione’s surprise, only one of the identical girls went off.
“Nines and tens!” Violet called them over. Both Hermione, and the other identical girl walked towards her. “We’re playing parachute with the Sevens.”
“This your first year at camp?” Hermione asked. The girl nodded. “Thought so, I haven’t seen you before. I’m Hermione.”
“I’m Bellatrix.” The girl smiled.
Hermione smiled back. That wasn’t the type of name she usually heard. She liked it. “That’s a star, right?”
“Yes.”
She looked over at Bellatrix. The girl’s eyes were dark like space, and the sunlight reflecting off them looked like little stars. A nickname for her popped into Hermione’s head — Star Girl.
“I can’t believe my parents sent me here.” Bellatrix sighed as they approached the group.
Hermione shook her head. “Tell me about it.”
Hermione and Bellatrix held the handles of a red portion of the parachute. They stood so close that their shoulders touched, and Hermione could smell Bellatrix’s perfume. It smelt like pine trees and reminded Hermione of the forest at the edge of town. The handles were made to be held by only one person, but Hermione’s only other option was to stand in the blue section next to Kyle, and Bellatrix was a much better person to stand beside than Kyle — anyone was.
While playing games with the parachute, Hermione noticed something strange. Bellatrix didn’t get upset when their team lost. She didn’t stomp her feet, cry, scream, or accuse other people on the team of slacking. She just stood there, indifferent.
After one and a half excruciating hours with the parachute, Violet put her hands up high over her head, signalling the only good part of camp — parachute house. Everyone enthusiastically followed suit. “Three, two, one!” They sat down, holding the parachute behind their backs, the air trapped inside creating half of a balloon-like shape. Hermione looked over at Bellatrix, who was — to her surprise —smiling.
“This is amazing!” Bellatrix whispered, her starry eyes wide, looking at the rainbow of colours above them.
“Mmhm. It’s alright.” Hermione responded. It was an understatement. Parachute house was always fun, a watered down kind of fun. But this one — sitting next to Bellatrix, who was experiencing the wonder of parachute house for the first time — was amazing.
Violet might’ve said something, but Hermione was oblivious. She stared happily at Bellatrix — Star Girl. She was chatting quietly with someone, talking about school, maybe. Hermione thought she heard her own name, but she didn’t want to take her eyes off of the girl.
The starry eyes met hers. “Hermione?”
“Hey! Space cadet!” Ugh, Kyle. “Grapehead’s talking to you.”
“Kyle.” The sevens’ camp counsellor warned.
Violet already seemed tired, “Are you excited for school?”
Yes! One hundred times yes. Hermione loved school, but didn’t want to seem like a nerd in front of Bellatrix. “Uh, I guess.”
Kyle scoffed. “Understatement of the year! She walks around with all her stupid little textbooks,” He plugged his nose, “‘Ooh! I know the answer Mrs. O’Connor! Of course I do, because I’m a stupid little nerd!’” He mimicked.
”Kyle, enough!” Violet said.
Hermione’s face was growing incredibly red. She could see two dark eyes staring at her, but couldn’t bear to meet them. The parachute house deflated and she ran out as quick as possible, her face burning. A thick birch tree provided the perfect hiding spot. No one saw her run to the tree, right? Hopefully not.
She closed her eyes. Why was she like this? Why was camp so incredibly hard already? The smell of pine trees surrounded her.
“Kyle is a jerk!” Bellatrix said, angrily, unzipping her backpack.
Hermione couldn’t let the girl think she was too weak to handle someone like Kyle. “Mmm, he’s just like that. Does it all the time.”
“But that doesn’t make it right!” Bellatrix’s hands were on Hermione’s knees. “If you’re a serial killer, it’s still illegal.”
Hermione sighed. “That’s different.”
“Not really. Mean people are like serial killers — they kill your happiness.”
She thinks I’m weak! Hermione’s eyes flew open. She was going to defend herself, but two dark, starry eyes met hers and she instantly melted, like ice cream on a hot day. “My happiness is very intact, thank you very much.”
“Really?”
It wasn’t, but you put it back together.
“Sixes, sevens, eights, and nines! Snack is over! We’re playing tag!”
Bellatrix packed her things but Hermione didn’t move.
“Are you coming?” The girl asked.
“No.” Hermione wanted to stay there forever, under the birch tree with Bellatrix.
Bellatrix’s eyes were big. She pouted. “But we’re playing tag.”
Hermione laughed and copied her. ”But I don’t want to.” Tag was the worst. Nothing but running away from screaming kids under the hot summer sun for hours, while the counsellors sat in the shade on their phones.
Bellatrix smiled mischievously. “How about we skip?”
“Do you think they’ll notice?” Hermione asked. She had dreamed of skipping camp before but had never been brave enough to do it.
“Nah. A few tired teenagers and about a hundred kids? They’ll never know.”
They walked further and further away from the camp, past shops and houses and bus stops. Bellatrix hummed quietly the whole time, and she listened — not so much to the music, but to the girl’s melodic voice. The golden sun made Bellatrix’s curly hair more shimmery than it usually was, and her eyes more starry. There really was only two words to describe her. Beautiful and magical. Like a star.
“I don’t really know my way around here yet. Know any good places to go?” Bellatrix asked.
Hermione stood for a moment — staring into Bellatrix’s eyes. She almost forgot she had a question to answer. “Yes.”
“Well then,” Bellatrix stuck out her hand daintily. “Take me there.”
Hermione gulped and stared at her hand. She carefully took it and began walking again, painfully aware of how sweaty her hand was growing in the heat. She hoped Bellatrix wouldn’t be able to notice.
They arrived at the edge of the forest. “This is where you wanted to take me?”
“Yeah, it’s my forest.” Hermione shrugged shyly.
“Your forest? Like you own it?” Big starry eyes were staring at her again.
“Well, no, but I’m the only one who comes here. Although, there’s lots I haven’t seen yet.”
Bellatrix threw her arms around Hermione. “Thank you for inviting me to your forest.” She mumbled into her shoulder.
“Anytime.” Hermione said, turning beet red with a bright smile on her face.
Bellatrix let go and jumped forward, plunging her shiny Mary-Jane shoes into the wild grass. “Now, let’s explore.”