Things gradually became easier for Barty. As soon as Bellatrix had helped him conquer his apprehension on raids, he found them to be much less complicated. Her advice had worked, and now rather than picturing himself being tortured and killed, he pictured his father. It made the act much more enjoyable, and helped him expel some of the anger that usually hummed through his blood, simmering but never rising to the surface.
His growing comfort with the violence displayed on raids made it easier for him to accept many other things in his life. Dealing with his father at home became easier, he no longer felt prickles of fear up his spine whenever he knew his father was home, and his harsh judgemental words now meant nothing to Barty. He felt smug whenever he slipped off to his room, brimming with satisfaction over how oblivious his father was to everything.
He still spent a large amount of time at the Lestrange's, and had even felt himself becoming less and less fazed by the sometimes turbulent atmosphere. Rabastan had been right when he talked about getting used to things. Barty wasn't sure he would, but now he could feel it happening. As November began to approach December, Barty was more settled into life as a Death Eater than he thought he could be at the beginning. The teaching he'd received and the power he'd been given had knocked the self doubt out of him.
He was meeting weekly with the Dark Lord, one on one at the Riddle house. They mostly discussed the results of his spying from each week, and had so far managed to prevent one mass arrest, which Barty had been rewarded for. He had also begun Occlumency training, with both Bellatrix and the Dark Lord respectively. When the Dark Lord had found out, he suggested training with him too, as he had taught her everything she knows. Barty enjoyed being taught by both of them, and was improving steadily through the challenge.
Barty could also feel a strong bond growing between himself and the Dark Lord. After their discussions of the information Barty had garnered from eavesdropping on his father and rummaging through his home office, they talked personally. Barty knew that this was rare for the Dark Lord, that he was very private and rarely let his followers this close unless they were trusted greatly. This knowledge filled Barty with a sense of importance and validity. Exhilaration coursed through every cell in his body whenever he left the Riddle house after one of their talks.
Barty often wondered if Regulus would have been proud of him, for how much he'd accomplished and what a trusted member of the inner circle he'd become in such a short time. He knew that Regulus had always admired the Dark Lord's power and influence while they were growing up, almost in a longing way, as he never thought that he would be able to achieve that level of power, no matter how much his family may have wanted him to. Barty had often been too wrapped up in his own home life to follow the Dark Lord's movements as much as Regulus did, but now he completely understood Regulus's admiration.
Barty grabbed the bottom corner of the newspaper clipping that hung on the wall of Regulus's bedroom. It was a new addition to his wall of admiration. He read about the attack described, paying it little attention before letting it go.
"Why do you follow him so closely?" asked Barty dropping down onto the spare bed in his room and folding his arms behind his head.
"Don't you ever think what it would be like to have that much power?" said Regulus, sweeping his hair out of his eyes on the bed parallel to Barty, his bed.
"Not really," said Barty dismissively, knowing it would be pointless.
"It must be nice, to be completely in control like that," said Regulus, a yearning in his voice. "I'm not sure I'll ever feel that, but the thought of being near that kind of power is nice."
"I know I won't," said Barty, trying not to expel the depressing extent of his reality into his words. "Anyway, do you want a chocolate frog?"
The presence that the Dark Lord held was magnetising, Barty could feel power move around him in the air whenever he was with him. It was hypnotic. Despite his startling appearance, Barty found himself growing more and more comfortable around the Dark Lord, cementing his loyalty every time they talked. They shared stories about their mutual hatred of their fathers', making Barty fantasise about one day killing his own father, the way the Dark Lord had done. He'd often imagined it, but never thought he'd be able to do it, as his father was too powerful a beast. But Barty was the beast now, and he knew without a shadow of doubt what he was capable of.
The loyalty he felt was fierce, and strengthening day by day. It was becoming fused to his soul, the cause often being all he could think about. Joining the Death Eaters had been the best decision he'd ever made, he felt reborn, truly seen by all around him for the first time in his life. The only person who felt anywhere close to the same level of loyalty was Bellatrix, and the Dark Lord had become a frequent topic of conversation between the two of them.
"So what else did he tell you?" asked Bellatrix as they chatted in the green lounge, leaning closer to him like he was about to whisper a secret into her ear.
"He was telling me about how he's going to use the information I've given him to match up with the growing list of potential Order members," said Barty, nodding as he talked, noticing the way her eyes widened and her smile grew at his words. The look of excitement on her face was similar to that of a child right after their parents had presented them with sweets.
"That's great," she said. "We're so lucky we've got you to spy so closely."
"Thanks," Barty responded, pride welling in his chest. "He's made sure I know how valued my input is."
"He can be very rewarding for hard work and faithfulness," said Bellatrix, her voice dipping into the low velvety tone it often held. "Did you get any names from your father? I know not all Order members are aurors under your father's instruction, but there's a good chance many are."
"I um," Barty stammered. He knew that conversations with the Dark Lord surrounding missions were to only be shared between individuals involved, and he didn't want to betray the Dark Lord's trust, even if it was only Bellatrix.
"Did you not think that information might be classified," said Rodolphus from the armchair beside the fireplace, the somewhat forceful tone of his voice taking Barty by surprise. Until now, he'd been silently reading the Daily Prophet. "And he might not be able to tell us."
Bellatrix's expression soured instantly. Her smile morphed into a thin line, and her head rotated towards him with owl like speed. From next to her, Barty saw her chest heave slightly as she held in a breath, gently biting her bottom lip as she looked over at Rodolphus.
"I'm sure if we're entitled to know then we'll find out soon enough," he continued, a thin veil of smugness lingering in his words. His comment had clearly annoyed Bellatrix.
"Anyway," she said loudly and high pitched, before turning back towards Barty. "What else did the two of you discuss dear?"
"He was telling me about his time in Albania," said Barty, feeling the tension that hadn't quite simmered away.
"Oh," said Bellatrix in response. "I remember those stories." She stopped, biting the corner of her bottom lip as the beginnings of a smirk tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Do you?" she said slowly, her words laced with familiar false sweetness as she glanced over to the armchair.
"Of course," answered Rodolphus, sounding bored and not even glancing up from the paper to notice Bellatrix watching him.
"What else did he say?" she continued when she got no reaction, the poison honey of her mocking tone returning to genuine enthusiasm.
"The amount you ask about my meetings with the Dark Lord you may as well come along to save you the trouble," said Barty, chuckling lightly as the words left his mouth. Bellatrix laughed too, a low, uncharacteristically girlish giggle that Barty could only assume was slightly exaggerated for the purpose of furthering whatever passive aggressive game he'd found himself unwittingly in the middle of.
"Are you okay dear?" drawled Bellatrix once the laughter had stopped, the venom in her feigned concern obvious. "You look like you want to say something." Barty looked over, noticing that Rodolphus had draped the newspaper over the arm of the chair.
"I was just going to excuse myself and get a drink," he said calmly, but Barty noticed the stern undertones. "If that's alright with you." Bellatrix smirked to herself as she watched him get out of the chair, leading Barty to wonder why she'd wanted her laughter to irritate him so much, and why it had worked.
It hit him then, the realization like a cold stone dropping into his stomach. He'd heard whispers before he began his training, from the other Death Eaters. Many of them speculated that she was closer to the Dark Lord than any of them knew. That rumour had been pushed out of Barty's mind while he'd trained, never noticing anything that could indicate its potential truth, until now.
"Would you bring me one back?" asked Bellatrix just as Rodolphus was about to reach the door. Her voice was equally as seductive as it was mocking, clear enjoyment radiating from her.
"I thought you were perfectly capable of getting your own and didn't need me getting them for you," he said, sounding almost as smug as she had as he threw her own words back at her with a smile on his face.
"Well I thought I might be nice and ask you to get it for me this time," she said in response, dropping some of the falseness from her voice, but keeping it slow and honeyed. "That won't be a problem, will it?"
"Of course not," replied Rodolphus, sounding less self satisfied as he left the room.
"Anyway," said Bellatrix positively, like the last two minutes hadn't happened at all. "I was with the Dark Lord only yesterday discussing methods for attempting to attain the prophecy. Has he shared his thoughts with you on that?"
"No," said Barty, unable to stop thinking about the rumour. If she'd been alone with him yesterday, then that could explain the tension today. He tried to get the thought of out of his head, but didn't think he could.
"Actually will you excuse me?" he said abruptly, moving to get off the couch. "I need to use the bathroom."
"Oh," said Bellatrix, her eyes widening slightly. "Of course, go ahead."
Barty left the room, heading across the corridor and into the bathroom. He couldn't shake the questions that were swimming around in his head, as he washed his hands, he pictured pulling each of them from his brain and watching them swirl down the sink. Was it true? If it was, did Rodolphus know about it? Did he care? It was clearly a source of tension regardless of whether it was true or not. Barty noticed another feeling underneath the initial discomfort, almost like jealousy. He felt like his own personal bond with the Dark Lord was almost threatened, like he was becoming possessive of the Dark Lord.
He shook his head, drying his hands and leaving the bathroom. He didn't want to walk back in the lounge until he'd pushed all thoughts of the rumours from his mind, so he wandered down the corridor and out into the foyer, where he bumped into Rodolphus.
"Hey," said Barty meekly, glancing down at the two glasses of red wine in his hands.
"Sorry about that," he said, almost embarrassed. "We probably should have given you some form of warning that things were a little tense today."
"No need mate," said Barty, waving his hand dismissively. Rodolphus laughed harshly.
"You've spent far too much time here," he said, causing Barty to laugh too.
"It's better than at home," said Barty, sighing slightly and hiding it behind fading laughter. Rodolphus looked at the ground, shaking his head slightly before straightening up again.
"You fancy sitting in there and having a drink?" he asked Barty, glancing towards the wall of the blue lounge. Barty blinked.
"Don't you need to give that to Bellatrix?" he asked, pointing to one of the glasses. Rodolphus laughed again.
"I'm in no rush," he said, smiling in a way that made Barty temporarily uncomfortable. A part of him feared for the man's safety. "And she probably didn't even want it."
This eased Barty's conscience somewhat, and he agreed. They went into the lounge and sat down, Rodolphus taking the armchair and Barty taking the big couch so they were facing each other. Rodolphus put one of the wine glasses down and duplicated the one in his hand, offering it to Barty.
"So how are you really?" asked Rodolphus after sipping from his glass. "I know it can be quite difficult to be completely honest with her breathing down your neck."
"I'm honestly doing fine," answered Barty, nodding so vigorously that a drop of wine came up over the edge of his glass. He caught it with his legs and promptly put the glass on the table. "I've really found my feet."
"Good," said Rodolphus. Barty smiled. He wasn't sure why he felt the need to be quite so insistent with his positivity, and he wondered whether it was overcompensation for what had happened in the other room and his subsequent thoughts about that rumour. As much as he'd tried not to, Barty often found himself taking Rodolphus's side in the arguments he'd witnessed. He'd tried to stay out of it altogether, but Bellatrix always seemed to overreact and pick fights where they weren't necessary. While she was an exceptionally good teacher, Barty had seen that she could be very difficult to live with. Everyone else in her life seemed to tiptoe around her.
"How's your Occlumency training going?"
"Great," said Barty, trying to tone down his animation. "I really feel like I'm getting the hang of it." He blinked as a concerning thought popped into his head. "Speaking of Occlumency, wont she know we're in here?"
"Only if you give it away," said Rodolphus, taking another sip from his glass. Barty felt his mouth fall open slightly as he realized what Rodolphus meant.
"You?" he stammered, amazed that he'd managed to keep the fact that he was a better Occlumens than Bellatrix quiet.
"Surprised?" he said with a grin, lowering his glass away from his face.
"I guess," said Barty, although it made sense the more he thought about it. He'd been to their house enough times to see Bellatrix being difficult, and there were many times where Rodolphus just let her get on with it. Barty had always thought that he couldn't be that unbothered by her. Turns out he was just good at hiding it.
"Its better not to brag about what you can do," said Rodolphus, putting his glass down on the coffee table. "You have less up your sleeve if everyone already knows."
"I'll remember that," said Barty, still smiling from the surprise. He realized that he could learn a lot more from Rodolphus than he initially thought.
"Sometimes natural skill doesn't do you any favours," Rodolphus continued.
"What do you mean?"
"It's better to learn things the hard way rather than have them handed to you," he explained. "That makes you overconfident, and if that confidence goes to your head." Barty tried not to laugh as he glanced towards the other lounge where Bellatrix was. "You reveal everything through ego, and people can see right through you."
"Good to know," said Barty, making a note to remember the advice. He'd been taught so much by Bellatrix that mirroring her patterns of abrupt exertions of force came naturally to him. It was good for him to note flaws in that method early on.
"When I was your age," said Rodolphus, smiling slightly as he spoke. "I was an arrogant little shit who'd never had to try in their life." Barty let out a snort of laughter. Rodolphus pointed at him. "Don't get cocky, you'll end up complacent, and it will trip you up."
"It's a good thing I was never naturally skilled then," said Barty, his cheeks aching slightly. The pleasant atmosphere was broken when the door creaked open and Bellatrix walked in. Barty tried to squash the guilt that spread hotly across his chest and face.
"What are you doing in here?" she asked, suspicion and displeasure heavy in her voice.
"Barty wanted to discuss something personal with me," Rodolphus said to her, his voice calm and steady and a little smug, but Barty suspected that only he could detect it. "Didn't you?"
"Yes," he agreed, remembering his Occlumency training and picturing his mind as a blank room as he spoke to her.
"Oh," she said, turning her nose up slightly before changing the subject. "Where's my drink?"
"On the table," answered Rodolphus, motioning to the table. "Right in front of us." Barty bit his lip against the heavy patronisation, trying to force away awkward laughter.
"I was beginning to think you'd fallen down the cellar stairs or something," said Bellatrix as she strode over to the table and picked up the full glass.
"Well obviously I haven't," replied Rodolphus, a sarcastic 'unfortunately' silently lingering between the words.
"Well are you done?" asked Bellatrix abruptly, taking a large sip from her wine glass before screwing her face up.
"Not quite," said Barty confidently, pleased with the lack of fear in his chest.
"We'll be back in soon," added Rodolphus. Bellatrix sighed and left the room.
"I think I kept her out well," said Barty as soon as the door closed and she was far enough away that she couldn't hear through the wall, adrenaline flowing through him.
"I don't think she was even looking at you," said Rodolphus, clearly amused by Barty's excitement. "She doesn't think you'd lie to her." The pride flowing through Barty's system increased.
"But if she does get inside your head," Rodolphus continued, distracting Barty from his internal celebration. His tone had become slightly warning. "Make sure she doesn't find out about this conversation."
"I will," he said eagerly, licking the corner of his mouth.
"There's not much I can do better than her, and it's better for everyone if she thinks the extensive list of those things is playing quidditch and mediating." Barty nodded in agreement to keep their conversation quiet, feeling lucky that he now had a third Occlumency teacher.
The next time Barty felt his mark burn, he prepared to meet the Dark Lord fuelled with confidence. He made his way up to the Riddle house, finding thoughts of rumours circling his head again. He tried his best to push them away, not wanting those questions in his head while he was around the Dark Lord. While it may be easy to be a better Occlumens than Bellatrix and keep it quiet, she wasn't the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord was the most impressively powerful wizard Barty had ever met, there was surely nobody better than him.
"Good evening Bartemius," came the Dark Lord's cold drawl as Barty approached the lounge where they held their meetings.
"Good evening my lord," said Barty as he entered the room, bowing before taking his usual seat.
"You're in a good mood this evening," said the Dark Lord, no emotion in his voice.
"I'm just happy to be getting better and better at being a Death Eater," replied Barty shucking off his overcoat and letting it pool behind his back in the armchair.
"That's good to hear," the Dark Lord said, not sharing Barty's enthusiasm, but appreciative of it. "And I know that's the truth." Barty realized that this must have meant the Dark Lord had been inside his head, but the lack of awareness didn't concern him as much as it had the first time with Bellatrix.
"I'll admit Bartemius," The Dark Lord continued, drumming his bony fingers slowly against the arm of the chair, like he was playing a piano. "I was eager for your loyalty from the moment we first met, as I saw great potential in you." Pride exploded through Barty's system. "But I had my doubts after discovering your former lover. I'm glad you've proved me wrong."
"Regulus concerned you?" asked Barty tentatively, hoping he wasn't speaking out of turn.
"I sensed him wavering," he replied, before insisting that they change the subject.
It all made sense now. Memories crashed into the forefront of Barty's mind like a tidal wave. Of course he was having doubts, that's was why he'd become so jumpy and distant after taking the mark. That's why he'd been so secretive, why he hadn't been bragging to everyone who would listen about joining.
All through Barty's training, he'd wondered how Regulus had managed to go through it, seeming too soft for the brutality that Barty had engaged in. Now he understood that his suspicions weren't wrong. Even Bellatrix had said she'd worried about him while he was training, but if she'd known his loyalty was being questioned, would she not regard him with as much distain as she did the others who she didn't trust. That would mean that she didn't know. Did only the Dark Lord know? How much did he know? And if he knew, was there any chance that Regulus was still alive?
"Why do you want to hide it so much?" Barty asked Regulus as left the Slytherin common room and headed to class.
"Because," said Regulus, his voice almost stern in its defensiveness. "The teacher's are cracking down on any talks on potential members. They could punish me."
"But the others in there are shouting their mouths off about wanting to join," said Barty, sounding almost as defensive as Regulus. "And nobody is doing anything to them."
"Yet," Regulus replied, huffing out a breath."Maybe I just don't want to draw attention to myself, like always. What makes you think that's changed?"
"Nothing," Barty said meekly, taken aback by the escalating anger in Regulus's tone. He just wanted Regulus to be proud of himself. He'd pleased his family, something which Barty would never be able to do. The pressure on him was gone, and Barty wanted to make sure he knew not to take that feeling for granted.
