It was two days after his marking when Barty received his first summons from the Dark Lord. It was eleven pm and he was trying to fall asleep, the burning rippling up his arm and jolting his whole body awake. He crept around his bedroom, trying not to wake his parents as he changed from his pyjamas and apparated out of the house. His father had been less suspicious than he expected, given the amount of time Barty spent sleeping at other's houses. He'd barely said a word when Barty dragged himself in Saturday evening after spending most of the day sleeping off a hangover at Lestrange Manor. All he'd had to say was that he'd crashed on a friend's sofa after a night in the pub.

He smiled to himself when he'd got up to his room after coming in, that party being the best he'd felt in a long while. His own Hogwarts graduation party hadn't felt as good, although that was mostly due to his father being there, making it all about him and still criticising Barty's N.E.W.T. results despite the fact he'd graduated. Barty finally felt wanted, included. Agendas aside, everyone at that party was happy he was there, and they made sure he had fun.

He may have had a little too much fun, and definitely suffered for it the next day. He wasn't sure why he kept letting Bellatrix and Rodolphus make his drinks, but it had not been a good idea. He couldn't even remember how he got to bed, although he suspected Rabastan had something to do with it. The last thing he could remember was almost vomiting on their garden patio, and then somebody getting jinxed on the stairs and distracting everyone. Barty had followed to see who it was, and found Severus Snape, who had been two years ahead of him at Hogwarts, with just his head visible. The rest of his body had been swallowed up by the stairs.

He knew Snape wasn't the only person who'd caught a jinx, he had foggy memories of laughter at other people getting hit, but that was the last solid memory he had of the party. He'd reflected on it all weekend, feeling smug that his father had no idea what he now was. He was excited as he walked up the entrance of the Riddle house where the Dark lord resided, eager to find out what his first instructions would be.

He found the Dark Lord in an upstairs lounge, slumped in a black leather armchair. He beckoned for Barty to take a seat in the one next to him after he'd made his arrival known.

"Yes my lord," he replied quietly, slipping into the chair beside him.

"Do you know why I have called you here?" asked the Dark Lord, his voice sending shards of ice into Barty's stomach. The power that flowed from the Dark Lord when he spoke was stifling. His voice was cold, and piercing in a way that made Barty squirm. It was a similar feeling to being around Bellatrix when she lost her temper, only the Dark Lord maintained faultless composure.

"No my lord," he answered, hoping that his voice didn't break. He didn't want the Dark Lord to sense his uneasiness, although he suspected that he already had.

"I just wanted to get to know you a little," he answered, his words turning into what sounded like a harsh laugh at the end, like Barty's nerves amused him. "As I'm sure you are aware, I was very eager to have you at my side. I had my best followers train you to ensure your success and they did not disappoint."

"Thank you my lord," said Barty, timidly accepting the compliment.

"I suspect that you knew my first request for you would be to spy on your father," the Dark Lord explained, his voice like stone. Barty nodded.

"I did, my lord," answered Barty.

"Good," he said sharply, leaning forwards and angling himself towards Barty. He still lost his breath when he took in the Dark Lord's features, a mangled hybrid of serpent and human. He wondered if he had always looked that way, or if it was the result of something far beyond his knowledge.

"As your father is leading the campaign for the apprehension of my followers," began the Dark Lord, his ghostly hand curling over the arm of the chair. "I would like you to gather as much information as you can regarding what he knows. I want to know how much he knows about his teams investigations, if he has names, if there are arrests imminent. I want everything, do you understand?"

"Yes my lord," confirmed Barty, licking the corner of his lips as satisfaction replaced the nerves that swam through his insides. This was the perfect opportunity to get one over on his father like he'd always wanted, although this version was less violent that the fantasies created in his head. However, this was better, this would target the thing he loves most, his work. It would slowly erode his efforts away until he was driving himself insane as he tried to figure out where he was going wrong. "I would be delighted to deliver this information to you my lord."

"Good," he said, rising from his chair. Barty's eyes followed him as he moved to hover in front of Barty's chair, his shadow creeping towards him. He looked up at his shockingly red eyes, flinching away from their penetrating gaze almost immediately.

"Now I said that I was going to get to know you Bartemius," he began, sticking his hands in the pockets of his robes. "And that was not a lie, however, it will be done in a way not traditionally associated with two people getting to know one another." Barty's smug feeling instantly returned to nerves.

"As I do with all of my followers, new and old, I will invade your mind," the Dark Lord explained. Barty swallowed. "You will let me see everything. Your darkest moments, your most intimate."

Barty felt his insides sink at the thought of the Dark Lord watching the most secret parts of his life. The thought of his seeing his father, and Regulus, filled him with such strong discomfort that his entire body felt hot. The best moments of his life, and the worst, the moments he held dearest to him and never wanted to share, like his first kiss with Regulus.

"You're delusional," laughed Barty, crossing his ankles over as he stretched out on his bed. "There's no way that Edward Bulstrode is like us, let alone interested in you."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Have you seen him around girls? He's like a toad with a dribbling problem," retorted Barty.

"I'm not sure that works," countered Regulus, sitting down at Barty's side. "And who says he's not into both."

"There's no way." Was all Barty replied.

"So do you think it's just us?"

"Probably not," answered Barty, sighing slightly. "But I'm not really interested in finding out."

"Why not?"

"Because," began Barty, feeling his heart jump. "I'm only interested in knowing about you."

"What do you mean?" said Regulus, his eyes narrowing. Barty sat up, their bodies becoming parallel.

"This," he said, before reaching over and cupping his cheek, pressing his lips to his. Regulus seemed hesitant at first, so Barty pulled away, but their eyes met in the narrow space between their faces and Regulus pulled him back, kissing him with less apprehension.

"Everything I wish to see, I shall," he finished, such a calmly delivered demand. Barty tried to suppress the heat that was flushing his face as he submitted.

"Yes my lord," he agreed, bowing his head as he prepared for the invasion.

"Legilimens," he whispered, and Barty felt the force of the Dark Lord entering his mind. He winced against the sensation, like his head was being repeatedly pecked by an owl as he gripped the arms of the chair.

The Dark Lord didn't stay in Barty's mind long, and Barty had no idea which memories he'd seen, as he'd made no attempt to resist him. The dizzying pressure released once the Dark Lord had withdrawn, and Barty sunk back into the chair with a loud expulsion of breath.

"Very good," the Dark Lord mused, his words slow and drawn out as he began to pace in front of Barty. "I was deliberate in making my presence in your head known this time. I won't always be so obvious." Barty blinked at him.

"I do this so I know who I can trust," he explained. "Nobody is as good an occlumens as I am, therefore if anybody is having doubts." He shot Barty a look, his tone twisting in a way that made Barty feel accused. "I'll know."

"I completely understand, my lord," he said, anxiety creeping up the back of his neck as he pondered why the Dark Lord had pointed suspicion at him.

"Report to me again once you have some information," he instructed, turning to walk out of the room. Barty let his eyes flit around the room, desperate for somewhere to focus.

"You may leave now," came the Dark Lord's voice from the shadows. Barty jumped into action, excusing himself before heading outside. The chill of the air hit him like a wave, and he shuddered as he gathered his bearings and apparated home.

He contemplated beginning his mission as soon as he was home, banking on his father being passed out from everything he'd drunk after coming home from work, but eventually deciding against it. He suspected that his father would have placed an advanced lock or jinx on the door to his study, and the middle of the night wasn't the best time to start trying to break in.

The next day, after trying to break into his father's office for three hours, Barty decided that he needed a break. He sent word to the Lestrange's that he wished to come over, receiving permission within the hour. It was almost six when he arrived, the house elf letting him in.

Barty quickly found that he was not their only guests. Narcissa Malfoy, Bellatrix's sister, was standing in the foyer with her husband Lucius and their four month old son Draco. All five of the adults turned to look at Barty as he entered.

"Evening all," he said awkwardly, walking over to the group gathered in the middle of the foyer, who quickly returned to their conversation.

"Please," whined Narcissa, jostling her son in her arms. "Everybody else who could take him is going to be at the dinner, you're the only people I can ask."

"Cissy, you know we could get called away at a moment's notice," argued Bellatrix, not angry but exasperated as she met her sisters pleading eyes. "That is not appropriate for looking after a child."

"I know," she sighed. "But you're my last hope. And how likely is it for all of you to be called at once?"

"Fairly likely," answered Rodolphus. Narcissa huffed.

"If they can't take him Darling, they can't take him," Lucius chimed in, clearly displeased at the thought of leaving his son with his sister in law, judging by the expression on his face.

"Are you trying to suggest we can't look after him properly?" accused Bellatrix, stepping closer to Lucius while scowling at him.

"Whatever gave you that impression," Lucius replied sarcastically. Barty watched Narcissa and Rodolphus look at each other and roll their eyes.

"For your information," began Bellatrix, getting louder as she inched closer. "We've looked after Draco plenty of times before and he's been perfectly fine."

"I think by plenty, you mean three," countered Lucius, his voice remaining cold and detached, similar to the Dark Lord. "And while nothing has happened to him yet while he has been in your care, I have no doubt that inevitably something will."

"How dare you!" shouted Bellatrix, making Draco burst into tears. Narcissa immediately began rocking him in her arms.

"How dare you suggest that we would endanger your child," Bellatrix continued, her voice now a harsh whisper. "He's family, and while he unfortunately has your genes, he also has the blood of the house of Black in his veins. That's important."

"We're taking him," announced Bellatrix, striding over to stand beside Narcissa. "And if we do get called, we'll find someone else to dump him on." Lucius and Narcissa both shot her an unimpressed look. She rolled her eyes. "You know what I meant."

"Fine," huffed Lucius, tensing his jaw. "We're running late anyway."

"Goodbye Darling," cooed Narcissa as she kissed her son before handing him over to Bellatrix. The two of them then disapparated out of the foyer.

Barty let out a sigh of relief, thankful that the exchange was all over, except for the fact that they now had a baby to look after. Bellatrix adjusted Draco in her arms, looking clearly uncomfortable.

"Don't look at me like that," she snapped, clearly at Rodolphus, who was shooting her a sternly disapproving look.

"Every fucking time," he groaned, closing his eyes in frustration as he clenched his fist.

"He needed telling," spat Bellatrix in response. Barty felt the awkwardness in the air tangibly thicken.

"The situation did not need escalating," argued Rodolphus, keeping his voice low.

"But he-" stammered Bellatrix, her eyes wider and her voice tight.

"I understand that the man is an idiot but you could have just let them leave," interrupted Rodolphus. Bellatrix tensed her jaw.

"And let him get away with saying I wasn't capable of looking after my own nephew," she fired back, shifting Draco in her arms so he was as far away from her voice as he could be.

"If it meant that we didn't have to watch your sister's brat then yes," he continued, pressing his lips together before letting out a short breath. "Do you want him for the whole evening?"

"No, I'm useless with children," responded Bellatrix. Barty blinked, realising why he was so annoyed with her.

"Give him to me," interjected Rabastan, stepping over to Bellatrix with his arms outstretched. "I'll have him." Bellatrix handed him over and stormed upstairs. "Sorry Barty."

"It's okay." Barty nodded, ignoring the heat flushing his face and the discomfort flowing through him. Rabastan started moving towards the east wing.

"Tact, Barty," began Rodolphus, causing Barty to stop mid stride. He looked up at him and blinked "It's a very valuable trait." He then walked off in the other direction, towards the dining room.

Bellatrix never came back downstairs, so Barty helped Rodolphus and Rabastan entertain Draco until Narcissa and Lucius came back for him. It was late when he got home, and he spent a moment in the front garden thinking up a tale of where he'd been. His parents had undoubtedly been at the same Ministry dinner that Narcissa and Lucius were at, so they should have been home. Barty walked in to find his mother in the study, and his father nowhere to be seen.

"Where have you been dear?" asked his mother, rising from her seat and meeting him in the hallway.

"At the pub," he answered nonchalantly, knowing that his mother wouldn't question it.

"You've been spending an awful lot of time there," she began, before something in her voice changed. "What's that on your back?"

"What's what on my back?"

"There's a white stain down your robes," his mother explained. Barty closed his eyes in exasperation. Baby sick.

"Someone must have spilled something on me," he responded, grimacing. "I must not have noticed."

"Take your robe off and give it to Winky," his mother suggested. Barty felt all of his muscles harden at once.

"No," he replied, far too hastily to be inconspicuous. His mother shot him a concerned look. He laughed nervously.

"I mean," he began, his voice wavering. "I'll take it off in my room." He then ran upstairs.

A loud sigh of relief fell from his lips once his bedroom door was closed. He'd forgotten that he'd have to conceal his mark from his parents, as the only example he'd had to follow was Regulus, and his family were proud, not active enemies. Although he did still keep his hidden.

"Why must we do this here?" asked Barty, neediness lacing his voice as Regulus ushered him into a small broom cupboard just outside the Slytherin common room. "The dorms are pretty much empty."

"Because I can't risk anyone seeing it," explained Regulus, running his hands along Barty's arms as he backed him into the wall. "You know the teachers are cracking down on students who are looking to join."

"But what about when you change for quidditch?" asked Barty, beginning to feel like as big a secret as the mark on Regulus's arm. Everything about him felt secretive lately.

"Confundus charm," Regulus offered weakly.

"I want to see it," said Barty.

"Why?"

"I just do," he replied. Regulus didn't need to keep secrets with him, but it still felt like he was. Barty wanted him to know how he was feeling.

Regulus pulled up his sleeve, whispered lumos, and exposed the skull and snake tattoo that adorned his arm.