"You know, every time we go to one of these meetings, you manage to look more and more innocent."
"Are you making fun of me, Master?" Bellatrix asked with a smirk, and he assured her,
"I genuinely am not."
She looked down at her black velvet dress, with its round, girlish neckline and its modest, long sleeves. It had a silk cape off the back, and she wore a simple black beret over her loose curls.
"The Portkey leaves in three minutes," Voldemort told her, and they stared at one another across his office, almost awkwardly. She studied his elegant robes, dark grey brocade, and she informed him,
"You look so very handsome, Master."
"You need to be very careful to call me sir at most," he reminded her. "Mr Riddle is preferred. Don't slip up."
"Right. Mr Riddle." Bellatrix looked him right in the eye and said firmly, "Mr Riddle. Mr Riddle."
He curled up half his mouth and reminded her, "It's very important that Mrs Stevens not get the impression that you and I woke up in the same bed this morning."
Bellatrix tried not to roll her eyes. They woke up in the same bed more often than not these days. But she understood his concern. It was more than strictly against the rules of her house arrest, even after she came of age, for the legal guardian and the ward to be engaged in any kind of relations. She would have to treat him like a father figure to avoid any sort of implication that there was a physical relationship.
"One minute left. Come on over to the desk," Voldemort said. Bellatrix walked over, and he asked her one last time, "Your wand is clean? No phantom spells?"
"It's clean, Mast… Mr Riddle." She nodded, and after a few moment, she watched the clock with him. He whispered a countdown, and then they touched the cube on his desk. Bellatrix gasped as they were sucked into the black, pinching, whirling sensation of traveling by Portkey. She almost vomited, but Voldemort snatched her arm and helped her stay upright as they landed. She watched when they landed, for his eyes suddenly trained on a pack of wizards standing behind them in the foyer of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Bellatrix recognised them as the men who had laughed at her the first time they'd come here, when she'd landed wrong side up and had shown them all her knickers.
Bellatrix scowled at them, for they were casually sipping at mugs of tea, apparently on some sort of break. Voldemort aimed his hand at them and seemed to cast a nonverbal spell of some kind, and then, very abruptly, one of the wizards said loudly,
"Haines, I've been sleeping with your wife."
"What?" exclaimed one of the other men. The two other wizards backed away, and Haines raised his fist. "What did you say, Burrows?"
"I said that I've been sleeping with your wife for a year!" exclaimed Burrows. Bellatrix snickered where she stood, and as Burrows and Haines erupted into a fistfight with the other two wizards using spells to try and wrench them apart, Voldemort smirked and said to Bellatrix,
"Let's go."
Suddenly she found herself very much in love with him. She'd been ogled and mocked by those wizards, and so he had taken revenge upon them. That was wondrous, Bellatrix thought. She followed him to the check-in desk, where the bored-looking witch took their cube Portkey and sent them down the corridor to Mrs Stevens. She was waiting for them, and when they sat in their chairs opposite her, she gave them a mirthless smile and said in her reedy voice,
"Happy Christmas."
"Happy Christmas, Mrs Stevens," said Bellatrix with a nod. Mrs Stevens held out her hand and said sharply,
"Wand, please."
Bellatrix pulled her wand out of her holster, and Mrs Stevens passed over the customary questionnaire about clothing and sexual health as she put Bellatrix's wand on the measuring device. Bellatrix cleared her throat softly and ticked boxes ensuring the Ministry that she was fed, clothed, and not being forced to scrub floors.
"It looks as though you have been well within the parameters of allowed spellwork," said Mrs Stevens. She pulled Bellatrix's wand off the device, handed it over, took the questionnaire and glanced over it, and then filed it away. Bellatrix tucked her wand away as Mrs Stevens folded her hands on her desk and said,
"I know several people who were in attendance at the Malfoy Christmas party. I was informed that you looked agitated at several points, Miss Black, and that you were dancing quite closely with Mr Riddle and seemed emotional. Can you explain?"
Bellatrix gulped. She didn't look at Voldemort; that didn't seem like the right thing to do. Instead, she licked her lip and said,
"Well, Mrs Stevens, my sister Andromeda and I have never gotten along well."
"No? Why not?" asked Mrs Stevens, and Bellatrix shrugged.
"We've just always had… I dunno. Contrasting personalities, I suppose. And I hadn't seen her in some time until the party. She decided to to deride me a little, to tell me that school was more pleasant without me there to lose Slytherin points."
That was not untrue, and Mrs Stevens' face softened a bit. She nodded, almost sympathetically, as Bellatrix confessed,
"I nearly lost my temper, but Mr Riddle bent down and said quietly in my ear, Remember to stay calm, Bellatrix."
She was saying that in case someone had mentioned him murmuring to her, holding her near. Mrs Stevens nodded, and Bellatrix continued,
"Mr Riddle recommended that my mother take Andromeda home, since I couldn't leave Malfoy Manor. My father spoke with us, and he was rightfully cross with me for arguing with Andromeda. I was experiencing difficulty calming myself, so Mr Riddle invited me to dance, which we did. During the dance, he quietly spoke with me about utilising techniques we have practiced to recognise sensations of panic and anger and overcome them."
Mrs Stevens looked very interested then. She glanced to Voldemort, then back to Bellatrix, and she asked her,
"What, precisely, are these strategies?"
"Well," Bellatrix said, hearing her own voice as smooth as silk in the air, "Once something begins to trigger a strong emotion, I've been instructed by Mr Riddle to mentally identify that emotion. For example, if I'm feeling anger or frustration, I identify those emotions. Then, in my mind, I crush those emotions, shove them away, and replace them with an unending peace."
"Oh? And what does this peace feel like?" Mrs Stevens asked curiously. Bellatrix smiled a little and said,
"It's like a vast, glassy sea that goes on forever. And the starry sky is reflected in it. So when I was dancing with Mr Riddle, he was trying to get me to leave my anger behind and find that peace. I suppose I must have looked very silly. But I did feel much better, and then I was calm."
"I am very glad to hear that your therapeutic sessions have found practical application in social settings," said Mrs Stevens, and she did indeed look very pleased. Bellatrix finally looked over to Voldemort, who glanced at her for a half second before giving a modest, self-deprecating sort of smile to Mrs Stevens.
"She's doing very well," he told the older witch about Bellatrix. "Miss Black dances ballet regularly, which I feel purges her of pent-up frustration. She shows an ever-increasing control of her emotional state. Her academics are progressing beyond what she would be able to achieve at Hogwarts. Just the other day, we brewed some Draught of Peace as a Potions lesson."
That was true, too; they'd decided to brew a large batch instead of buying endless bottles in Diagon Alley. Bellatrix smiled again, and Mrs Stevens nodded as she jotted down a few things.
"And you feel safe and well in yourself, Miss Black?" she asked. Bellatrix nodded.
"Indeed, Mrs Stevens. You see, I never confronted how bullied I felt at Hogwarts. I take full responsibility for my actions, of course, but… I did not have pleasant years at school. I have been able to find a great deal of contentment working through my own flaws at Malfoy Manor. Oddly enough, I feel a measure of happiness for the first time, even in house arrest."
Mrs Stevens looked almost as though she would cry, which was strange, for the witch had always seemed exceedingly detached. But she nodded and closed her folder, and she said,
"I am most pleased with this progress. This, Mr Riddle, is the ideal of what rehabilitation can be. Miss Black will be ready to re-enter society in a way she would never have been able to be with a simple Azkaban sentence. You are to be commended as her guardian."
"Indeed he is," Bellatrix nodded fervently. "I could never thank Mr Riddle enough. Nor Mr Malfoy for his hospitality. I know well that I am at the mercy of grand-hearted wizards, Mrs Stevens."
Voldemort seemed very impressed then, and Mrs Stevens stood and nodded.
"I wish you both a very happy holiday season and a wondrous New Year. Oh, and that will mean a happy birthday for you, won't it, Mr Riddle? Well. I shall see you both in February."
As Bellatrix and Voldemort walked down the corridor to get their return Portkey, she hissed,
"Your birthday's coming up?"
"New Year's Eve," he grumbled. "I don't celebrate it."
"Oh." She decided not to press that. He smirked down at her, looked around, and whispered,
"You are a terrifying little liar."
Then he walked up to the check-in desk and charmingly asked for their Portkey back to Malfoy Manor, and Bellatrix whispered,
"I've learnt from the best, Master."
Author's Note: Just a little interlude before… CHRISTMAS! (In March; haha) We have to find out what Abraxas helped Bellatrix get for Voldemort, and what Mr Borgin helped Voldemort get for Bellatrix, and what she'll think of the crystal emotion ball, and whether or not there's any festive hanky panky… oh, and Aeta may show up to share the holiday with Lucius and Abraxas. Mwah hahaha.