"Yaxley wasn't able to get close enough to Crouch to Imperius him?" Abraxas was hissing quietly, and Voldemort shook his head quickly.
"No," he lamented. "And we didn't have anyone close to Emmeline Hawkworth. Imperiusing Dumbledore was a lost cause. You didn't get any eleventh hour summons to testify?"
"No, Master." Abraxas shook his head sadly. Voldemort chewed his lip and nodded.
"Take care of her today whilst I'm gone. She'll be a nervous wreck. Have Dobby make her up some rose tea, will you?"
"Yes, sir." Malfoy bowed his head, and Voldemort headed into his office, where Bellatrix was standing, staring out the window.
"It's cold," she murmured, holding up the fingerless gloves she'd made for him. He gratefully took them and slid them onto his hands. She wasn't thinking clearly, or she'd remember that he wasn't going outdoors. He had a specialised Ministry Portkey, since they'd been moving back and forth between the issuing office. This one would take him to the Wizengamot. He wouldn't be going outside into the cold, but he pulled on her gloves just the same. He took her face in his hands, kissed her lips carefully, and murmured,
"I will not let them take you away."
"What could you possibly do to stop them?" she asked. He didn't have a good answer for that. He sighed.
"They've got Isadora Stevens, McGonagall, and Josephine Glass today. That's all I know. I wish I could take you, but you weren't exactly invited. Tomorrow, when I escort you there, they may shackle you. Be prepared for that."
"I'm prepared for anything." Bellatrix seemed utterly numb. She did not seem like a girl of seventeen anymore. He kissed her cheekbone and whispered,
"I love you. My Portkey leaves in one minute."
"Oh. Right. You don't need those gloves."
"I'll wear them." Voldemort kissed her other cheek, then her lips, and he told her again, "I love you, Bellatrix."
"My Lord." She seemed a little desperate then, clutching at his robes just a little. Her breath went ragged, and she kissed him again, frantically and deeply. He pushed his lips hard onto hers and soaked in the feel of her, and he assured her,
"I'll be back later."
Then, wishing with all his might that he had some sort of trick up his sleeve, he went to his desk and touched the Ministry Portkey.
"Dumbledore. May we speak?"
Voldemort approached the judicial bench from behind. Albus Dumbledore was the only one there so far, other than the Wizengamot clerk and a few spectators, such as reporters from the Daily Prophet and Cygnus and Druella Black. Dumbledore turned around slowly and said in a serene voice,
"Hello, Tom. Yes, of course we may speak, once judicial proceedings have concluded."
"I think we both know why you're doing this," Voldemort said harshly, and when Dumbledore feigned an innocent look, Voldemort nodded. "You have a personal vendetta against me, and you are extrapolating it to Miss Black."
"On the contrary, Tom." Dumbledore shook his head. "I have known Miss Black for some time now. I wish I could say I was shocked by her crime. I only wish to ensure that her sentence is fair to the victim, to society, and to Miss Black herself. That is all. Now, please, Tom… do sit down. Your testimony is tomorrow. Today you will listen in silence."
Voldemort scowled and took his place in a bleacher halfway up the Wizengamot gallery. His heart thumped heavily as he pulled his gloves off and tucked them into the pockets of his outer robe. He eyed Cygnus Black across the gallery, noticing how very nervous the man looked. He wanted to call out to Cygnus and Druella that, if it hadn't been for Voldemort, Bellatrix would have had her wand snapped and burned three days after casting the Cruciatus Curse. He wanted to tell Cygnus that he was his son-in-law now.
"All rise."
Voldemort reluctantly stood, for Emmeline Hawkworth and Bartemius Crouch had joined Albus Dumbledore upon the judicial bench. Before them was the broad wooden witness chair, and as the judges sat, Barty Crouch rapped his gavel and said in his burring voice,
"We are here today and tomorrow to discern the appropriateness and legitimacy of the house arrest situation arranged for Miss Bellatrix Black, convicted in June of 1968 of torturing a classmate, Miss Josephine Glass, with the Cruciatus Curse whilst at Hogwarts School. Bearing in mind that Miss Black was underage when she cast the spell, she was granted a sentence of house arrest at Malfoy Manor under the legal guardianship of a family friend, Mr Tom Riddle, and was given use of her wand back on her seventeenth birthday under strict conditions. This house arrest is scheduled to end with a positive Ministry reassessment at age nineteen."
"I have filed a formal complaint against this sentence," said Dumbledore, "for several reasons. First, I find it suspicious and odd that Mr Riddle, who has himself been suspected in the past of practising Dark magic quite regularly, would be allowed to act as legal guardian for a young witch convicted of casting an Unforgivable. Second, I do not necessarily find it just that a person who commits torture against another should face a so-called 'punishment' consisting of time spent in a luxurious manor, dancing ballet, eating fine food, and relaxing in a library. It may well be that it is more appropriate to pursue a more traditional sentencing pattern in this case."
"And that is what we are here to assess," Emmeline Hawkworth said. "Today, we will speak with three witches - all of whom, I am sure - will have valuable input into this matter. First, we call Mrs Isadora Stevens."
Voldemort watched as the shiny black double doors to the Wizengamot were opened, and Mrs Stevens came walking in in mint green tweed robes. She looked poised and graceful as she walked, and she nodded as she stood before the witness chair.
"Do you swear to tell the truth in its entirety?" asked Barty Crouch, and Isadora Stevens vowed,
"I swear."
"Please sit," Crouch said. Mrs Stevens sat. Crouch asked, "You serve as Miss Black's probation officer with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Who approached you to serve in this position?"
"Mr Corban Yaxley," said Mrs Stevens at once. "He said that it was very important that Miss Black have a case manager who would handle her properly."
"Properly," Crouch repeated. "What does that mean?"
"I took it to mean," Mrs Stevens said, "that this was a young girl who had committed a grave error and needed some sympathy, not just harsh punishment."
The three judges eyed each other, and Voldemort felt uneasy. Emmeline Hawkworth said,
"We have read over your thorough records of the last eight months of Miss Black's house arrest. It seems that, in your opinion, she has made great social and emotional progress. Is that fair?"
"Yes." Mrs Stevens nodded fervently. "I think that the therapy she and Mr Riddle have done has helped her become far more poised and tranquil over time."
"Did you ever have concrete evidence of this therapy besides the accounts of Mr Riddle and Miss Black?" asked Dumbledore, and when Mrs Stevens frowned and shook her head, he pressed, "Is it possible that, as she became more poised over time, he was training her to become a better liar?"
"I don't understand," Mrs Stevens said, and there were whispers in the gallery. Even Barty Crouch and Emmeline Hawkworth looked confused, but Voldemort shook his head. Dumbledore had gotten exactly what he'd wanted. He'd planted a seed.
"One final question, Mrs Stevens," Dumbledore said softly. "In your professional opinion, was there ever any sign of an inappropriate relationship between Mr Riddle and Miss Black?"
The chamber was completely silent. Voldemort raised his eyes and looked across the chamber to where Cygnus held Druella's hands. Mrs Stevens hesitated, and then she finally knitted her hands in her lap and stammered,
"Well, I… I didn't… I had no proof."
"You suspected something?" Crouch asked, and Mrs Stevens shrugged.
"They seemed unusually close for a guardian and ward. But I had no proof."
"I think we have everything we need from Mrs Stevens… we have all of your diligent record-keeping. Thank you, Mrs. Stevens. You may go," Dumbledore said. Mrs Stevens rose and bowed her head, turning to go from the Wizengamot chamber. Emmeline Hawkworth called out,
"Next, we ask for Professor Minerva McGonagall."
As Mrs Stevens left, Minerva McGonagall came in, walking like she owned the place. Her heels clacked on the tile floor, and her robes and hat swished authoritatively around her. She was nine years younger than Voldemort, so he barely knew her, but he'd heard enough. He'd certainly seen more than enough in Bellatrix's memories. McGonagall said down, and when asked if she would tell the truth, she trilled that she would.
"Hello, Minerva," said Dumbledore, and McGonagall nodded.
"Headmaster."
"Professor McGonagall," began Emmeline Hawkworth, "You taught Bellatrix Black for five years. You were the one who discovered her in the corridor with Josephine Glass. Were you shocked?"
"Well, I wish I could say I was shocked to find that Miss Black had cast the Cruciatus Curse, but I'm afraid that rather felt like a matter of time," McGonagall said. "I think all of us faculty sensed a great Darkness inside Miss Black. To be certain, she was bullied heavily by many of her fellow students, and she often cost her House points by getting into confrontations. But she frequently dragged herself into arguments by being profoundly disagreeable."
Voldemort scoffed. He couldn't help himself. Crouched scowled up and ordered,
"Silence in the gallery."
Voldemort felt his face go hot. He dug his teeth into his lip and shook his head.
"When is the last time you spoke with either Miss Black or Mr Riddle?" asked Emmeline Hawkworth, and McGonagall said,
"Last autumn, I saw Mr Riddle - who often styles himself these days as Lord Voldemort - inside Madam Primpernelle's in Diagon Alley. He was shopping for Miss Black. He did coolly assure me that there had been nothing sideways involved in arranging Miss Black's sentence or rehabilitation. But he did seem, at least to me, to be overly defensive of her."
Voldemort wanted to shout that McGonagall herself had just admitted that Voldemort had publicly spoken about Bellatrix's therapy. But he kept his mouth shut - something he would regret for many years afterward.
"Professor McGonagall," said Barty Crouch, "having taught Bellatrix Black for five years, and having discovered her after she cast the Cruciatus Curse, do you believe that a house arrest at Malfoy Manor could properly prepare her to be safe in society?"
McGonagall folded her hands in her lap, pursed her lips, and shook her head. She waited a long moment and then said,
"I'm afraid, Mr Crouch, that I see no way for that girl to be safe in society."
"Thank you for your time, Professor," said Crouch. "You may go. We now call Miss Josephine Glass."
Voldemort's heart began to race as McGonagall click-click-clicked her way out of the chamber. A new witch was shuffled in, a tall, skinny blonde with a face full of freckles and pimples. She had her school robes on, and Voldemort knew they'd brought her here from Hogwarts. Josephine Glass nervously promised to tell the truth, and when she sat, Dumbledore said,
"Hello, Miss Glass. You are in no trouble whatsoever. We merely wish to ask you a few brief questions. Please, can you describe the argument that led to your torture by Bellatrix Black?"
Josephine Glass shook with sudden tears where she sat, and Emmeline Hawkworth gestured for the girl's mother to go and give her a handkerchief. Finally, Josephine said in a voice Voldemort could barely hear,
"B-Bellatrix was being snarky with Professor McGonagall. Something about a button and needle. I can hardly remember now; it feels like it doesn't matter now. I was wrong. I called her a bitch. In the corridor, Bellatrix cornered me. We argued about whether she was a bitch or not. She threatened to destroy a portrait because the portrait told her to put down her wand. I tried to get her to calm down. Then there was red light. Red burning light and pain. Just awful pain that went on and on…"
"Thank you, Miss Glass." Emmeline Hawkworth looked very saddened, touching at her forehead and shaking her head. Barty Crouch asked pointedly,
"Did you ever participate in bullying of Miss Black?"
"Miss Glass is not under interrogation, Barty," Dumbledore reminded his colleague, but Josephine answered,
"A lot of us did, but she was terrifying. She wasn't normal. I don't think she could ever be normal. You could give that girl all the therapy in the world, and she'd never be normal. She's broken from the inside out, and that's why we teased her. No normal person responds to any teasing with a Cruciatus Curse, Mr Crouch. Wouldn't you agree?"
"I do agree, Miss Glass," Crouch nodded firmly. "I quite agree. Thank you for coming. You may go."
Once Josephine Glass had left the chamber, Crouch said,
"We will recess for today and resume tomorrow. For tomorrow's session, we call as witnesses Mr Tom Riddle and Miss Bellatrix Black. After their testimonies, we will make a determination about the appropriateness of Bellatrix Black's house arrest and, if we decide the current sentence is not appropriate, we will re-sentence the convict. This session is hereby adjourned."
He slapped his gavel on the desk before him, and he moved with Emmeline Hawkworth to quickly leave the chamber. Dumbledore moved more slowly, and Voldemort shook with rage as he descended the bleachers toward the judicial bench.
"Dumbledore," he snapped, and Albus Dumbledore turned slowly again.
"Tom," he said lightly. Voldemort shook his head. He blinked quickly. He had to play their game. They held all the cards right now.
"Don't do this. She is doing well. She is making progress."
"What sort of progress, Tom?" Dumbledore asked, eyeing Voldemort over his half moon spectacles. Voldemort shook his head and insisted,
"She mustn't go to Azkaban. You are not the sort of man to willfully throw a young girl into Azkaban. You know that she -"
"We will make a determination, Tom, on what the best decision is for Bellatrix and for our entire society," Dumbledore nodded. He held up one finger and seemed to be thinking for a moment. "Woe to the man who too often gets his way. Who was it that said that?"
Voldemort pinched his lips. "Merlin."
"Ah, yes. Merlin. Well. A good day to you, Tom. I shall see you tomorrow." Dumbledore stepped down from the judicial bench and walked from the chamber. Voldemort flicked his eyes up to see Cygnus and Druella looking very worried indeed, and he shook his head a bit, unsure of what he was meant to tell Bellatrix.
Author's Note: Uh-oh. Things are not looking so great. Will Voldemort's and Bellatrix's testimonies help or hurt her case? It's obvious that Dumbledore sees straight through this situation, and we know Crouch has a burning desire to pack all Dark witches and wizards off to Azkaban. Can they manage to keep Bellatrix out of prison?