Rodolphus felt like he was standing on the precipice of something he did not want to understand. Residing in his new office in the upper floor of the Ministry, he felt strangely ill as he watched the Atrium awash with scarlet robed Aurors.

It did not feel right.

He was one of the many who suspected that the death of Lord Grindelwald was the product of more than one mad and pathetic mudblood, but to think that the people arrested were behind his death was preposterous. His blue eyes focused down on a man with a blonde head of hair who seemed to be walking with the two guards that held him while turning from side to side as if he was looking for an escape or merely trying to argue.

It was Rabastan.

Throughout their life the two brothers had always been close and to think he had been responsible for the assassination without mentioning anything to him seemed impossible to Rodolphus. Not only was his brother loyal to the cause, but there was no way he would have done anything other than serve Lord Grindelwald faithfully.

It was as if someone had set them up.

There was no evidence to back up his ideas. If it was not just Rabastan arrested he might have thought it was a mere error, yet it was not. In that same day their uncle, the Carrows and young Avery had also been arrested with the same crime.

It unnerved him more than he cared to admit, especially when after his uncle and brother's arrest there was only one more Lestrange left in the Ministry...

Tightening his grip on his wand, he sunk into his chair and waited for news or something worse.

It was worse.

Without a knock or any kind of pleasantries, the door to his office burst open to reveal four red robed figures. Rodolphus did not allow himself to flinch as he rose to his full height.

"What are you doing here, Mulciber?" he questioned cautiously to the new Head of the Aurors. "I can only hope you have an explanation for blasting into a man's office without leave to do so."

"I have leave," he replied as he straightened himself to his full height and withdrew a thick stack of parchment. "Here the order for your arrest signed by Lord Dumbledore himself."

Rodolphus' eyes hardened and his grip on his wand tightened. He could try and flee, but it was pointless and, if he succeeded, it would only result in him being ostracised from society. He would be freed, but not in this way. He would comply and then take revenge for these actions another day.

Lifting his wand and causing the Aurors to withdraw their own weapons, he did nothing other than to place the wood on his desk and step forward innocently.

"Fine, but when this mistake is fixed up I will have your head," Rodolphus sneered as ropes appeared out of nowhere and bound his hands tightly. "I promise you that."

Mulciber only tensed slightly. No doubt he had heard such phrases and threats a number of times that day. "We shall see. Now come on Lestrange it is Azkaban for you."

Barely resisting hissing a threat, he complied and allowed himself to be marched out of his office. Stepping over threshold, he pulled himself to his impressive height and ensured he had the perfect presentation despite the chaffing ropes on his wrist as he was led down the corridor filled with important ministry officials. Some of the workers were standing outside their doors watching, including Riddle.

He could not help but focus his eyes on him and present him with an icy glare.

Perhaps it was still the anger that simmered under his skin after discovering him with Bella, yet it was so easy to blame him for all his problems and suspect him of being involved in this treachery.

If it was not such an out of character thing for Tom to do in such a public place he would surely have laughed in delight at the sight before him.

The Atrium was packed to bursting and a wooden stage had been put up against the Fountain of Magical Brethren, but Tom would not have been surprised if the statues came alive and attacked the man on the platform.

"People please!" The once great Albus Dumbledore cried in desperation as he tried to raise his hands to the crowd. "Please be rational. It is all nece-"

"Only so you can take over!" roared one particularly irate woman at the front of the crowd over Dumbledore's words.

"So you can crush purebloods and institute filth like you in their place," screamed another man in the middle.

"Probably killed Lord Grindelwald himself," accused another man in thick glasses.

"My sons are in Azkaban!" snarled a woman her voice oddly soft, but she was standing close enough to the front for Tom to hear Persephone Lestrange's accusations. "They were innocent and now they are rotting in prison like so many others."

Those near Mrs Lestrange roared their approval as the crowd descended on the stage shaking the platform and some tried to crawl up. Standing to the side, Tom's eyes gleamed with pleasure as the first man reached the platform. He was joined by another in quick succession.

Dumbledore had no choice. He fired off a stunner slamming into the man and throwing him onto the floor below. The crowd screamed in outrage and another surged forward. Dumbledore attacked again with a stunner throwing the man over the edge.

Tom knew he could have killed the two men and that was enough of an excuse for Tom to intervene. Stepping out from the side of the stage, he raised his own wand. Half behind Dumbledore he did not even pause. As the crowd roared with delight a Killing Curse surged out of his wand and hit Dumbledore in the back. He did not even see the attack.

He only crumpled.

Masking his face into a sorrowful expression he saw the crowd let out a stream of pleasure. He amplified a voice. "You need not worry," he said his voice echoing around the Atrium, "You are all free."

As the most senior Ministry official remaining he naturally slid into the role as leader. More than that, the scene in the Ministry where he seemed to protect the masses and take out an evil dictator, meant that he was considered a hero.

It was perfect.

All his plans had come to fruits.

Sinking in a chair for the first time in what felt like hours, he smiled to himself as his eyes swept over what had been Dumbledore's office.

It was now his.

Everything was now his.

Power was finally in his hands.

Despite that there was the strangest doubt slithering into his mind that something was missing, his lips twitched into a smile now that he was blissfully alone. He should have been fine submerged into his own solitude but there was something else he desired.

He was not the only one who should share this victory.

Everything at the Ministry would be fine for several hours.

Rising, he turned and walked out of his office to the comfort in France.

Stepping out of the roar of green flame Tom was more than a little surprised to find he almost walked into Bellatrix who was laying leisurely on the lounge; her head on a cushion and her long shapely legs resting over the opposite arm rest.

"What are you doing here?" he snapped before he could help himself masking his own surprise by accusing her.

Bellatrix only smirked and did not make any attempt to move. "You invited me here, remember. Did you suffer some sort of memory loss?"

She was so frustrating and so arrogant. He would have liked nothing more than to slap the smile off her face. "I meant in the sitting room," he snarled quietly as he dusted the soot of his robes. "Not the house."

"Oh well that," she drawled still cheerily. "Well there is nothing stopping me from being here."

He could have argued with her, but it was pointless. Instead he merely glared at her and turned to the entire reason he was here.

"If you stop being such a bitch, I might tell you why I'm here." She raised an eyebrow but made no attempt to move or to shift her disposition.

"I get it Riddle your horny and you expect me to bow to your desires. If you expect me to automatically jump you when you say-"

"Dumbledore is dead," he interrupted rather than listen to her ramblings. "It is done. The Ministry has fallen."

For one moment in which Bellatrix blinked at him rapidly it seemed to take a while to comprehend the information until a smile lit her features and she threw herself up and into his arms. Her lips pressed against his and he had no desire to push her off. He only held snaked his arm around her waist and held her flush against him.

It was a combination of the two topics they did not argue about.

As she pulled her lips away from him their grins mimicked each other's; alike with fire, joy and something darker. "Take me back now," she murmured her nails digging slightly into his neck. "Right now."

"Soon," he replied as he looked down at her calmly. "I need to sort out a few things and-"

"No," she snapped cutting him off and sinking her nails harder into his skin. "Now!"

He only chuckled and did not flinch despite the suspicion that she had probably made him bleed. "I suppose I could fast track some work and have you safe to return by the morning but why should I?"

Her eyes gleamed before her hands around his neck disappeared and she slid down her body so she was on her knees. The sight of powerful and proud Bellatrix so submissive before him was enough of an aphrodisiac before she had even undone his robes.

He would have arranged for her to be back relatively quickly, but he did not deny he was particularly appreciate of her attempts at persuasion.