"Mr Dedworth, I understand that the kappas are dangerous," Voldemort said patiently. The impossibly tall, impossibly thin man with the neatly trimmed beard and mustache folded his hands in his lap and cleared his throat primly. When he spoke, Wilbur Dedworth's voice was weak and thin.

"The kappas were procured as pets, Mr Riddle. They feed on human blood. All three were euthanised by the Committee, of course. All three found in possession of the creatures were fined and questioned. And they made it very plain that they procured the kappas as novelty 'pets' from a seller in Japan, a wizard named Hirotoshi Tanaka. According to all three British criminals, they sent money to Japan, and they met up with Mr Tanaka here in London. He smuggled the kappas in using an Expanded case and Muggle transport."

"Sounds as though he was rather inspired by good old Newt Scamander," Voldemort smirked. As far as he knew, Scamander was living in peace and quiet these days, but his methods and deeds had become legend and had spawned more than one imitator.

"Mr Riddle, this is quite serious," Wilbur Dedworth said impatiently, and Voldemort sighed.

"Of course it is, Mr Dedworth. But, if I understand correctly, then the Department of Magical Law Enforcement has already enforced British magical law against the British magical criminals. I'm not sure what more can be done."

"I would like you to send a message to the Japanese Ministry," Dedworth said very tightly. "Inform them that one of their citizens is smuggling kappas into Britain!"

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Mr Dedworth, but I am not going to do that," Voldemort said very calmly. He flicked his eyes beside him, to where Bellatrix was sitting, scribbling some notes. She raised her eyebrows but kept her eyes down. He looked back at Dedworth, who was mildly apoplectic.

"And whyever not?" demanded the man.

"Because," Voldemort said patiently, "to do so would imply incompetence on the part of the Japanese Ministry's law enforcement arm - a very bad move in terms of international cooperation, which is my purview. Furthermore, it is not, strictly speaking, illegal to take a kappa out of Japan. So, whilst Mr Tanaka broke British magical law, he did not break Japanese magical law, so far as I know. I assume we have issued a warrant for Mr Tanaka's arrest in the case that he should enter Britain?"

"Well… yes, I believe so," Wilbur Dedworth's mustache twitched, and Voldemort threw up his hands.

"Then I'm afraid that's all that can be done," he said. "I'm sorry I couldn't help you in the specific way you wanted, Mr Dedworth, but protocol is protocol. Maintaining international diplomacy is paramount."

"Very well. Good day to you, sir." Dedworth stood slowly, nodding to Voldemort and then to Bellatrix. She rushed to show him out, first from Voldemort's office and then from the departmental office. Voldemort drummed his fingers on his desk and looked and his schedule. He had the head of the Department of Intoxicating Substances coming in next, probably straight away, for a meeting about the alcohol content of exported Butterbeer.

This position wasn't quite as dull as Voldemort had feared. If he was going to climb up the Ministry ladder, proving himself a competent department head was a good start. He felt strongly that he'd shown himself to be authoritative and correct with Wilbur Dedworth without making the other man completely angry. This was the way he would assert authority within the Ministry. He could do it again with the next meeting, with the next department head. Noam Wood, it said. The name sounded vaguely familiar, and suddenly Voldemort's stomach sank.

Noam Wood.

No, no, no, he thought rather desperately. Not her. Why her? During his years at Hogwarts, when Tom Riddle had been a very handsome and sought-after young man, there had been one night, one singular night, where he'd allowed himself to sneak into the Potions classroom at two in the morning. He'd been Head Boy, and she'd been a fifth-year Slytherin Prefect - Noam Wood. She'd gone down on her knees for him, giggling and whispering that they'd get caught, and he'd smirked that he'd like to see someone walk in on them. She'd never undressed, and neither had he, but he'd finished all over her face.

And now Bellatrix was showing her into his office.

"Tom, this is your next appointment," Bellatrix said in a friendly voice, clearly having absolutely no idea of who the witch was that she was guiding into her lord and husband's presence. Voldemort cleared his throat and nodded. He thought about sending Bellatrix away, about having some sort of awkward conversation with Noam Wood about how things had changed, about how they both needed to forget that awkward night. But he studied Noam's auburn waves, her heart-shaped face, her freckles, her green eyes, and he thought that she was pretty, and then he looked at Bellatrix. His chest pulled and his stomach flopped. She was beautiful. She was his.

"Take notes, will you?" he asked, and Bellatrix sat beside him.

"Ms Wood and I attended Hogwarts together, so no introduction is necessary," he said tightly. "Ms Wood, this is my wife and assistant, Bella Riddle."

"Pleased to meet you," Bellatrix said, though suddenly her face bore a slight hint of suspicion. Noam Wood smiled rather crookedly, almost cruelly, and she seemed to be appraising Bellatrix. Voldemort slipped into Noam's mind. He couldn't help himself. He felt the thud of a thought from her, the pulse of an idea.

He settled for that? That bony, caterpillar-browed, frizzled-haired, miniature creature? Well, if that's what he wanted…

"It's what I wanted," Voldemort said quite firmly, yanking himself from Noam's mind. Noam looked shocked and horrified, and Bellatrix looked a little amused. She cleared her throat softly as she touched her quill to her parchment notebook and looked up, feigning curiosity.

"You're here to discuss Butterbeer?" Voldemort folded his hands on his desk and kept his voice light. Noam's pale, freckled cheeks went scarlet, and she whispered,

"Yes, I'm here to discuss Butterbeer."

"What about Butterbeer?" Bellatrix asked earnestly, now fully in on the game. Voldemort sighed and shrugged.

"Yes, what about Butterbeer?"

"Well," Noam said cautiously, pulling out a leather folio and extracting a parchment with very shaky fingers, "We successfully export Butterbeer in large volumes to France, Belgium, Norway, Sweden, Spain, and Portugal. The Italian audience simply doesn't have a taste for the flavour. But polls in Germany have demonstrated that the main reason why Butterbeer doesn't do well there is that the alcohol content is insufficient. It doesn't neatly fit into any category. It isn't a purely non-alcoholic drink, nor does it intoxicate, nor does it have the flavour of hops like a true beer. The suggestion is to create a second tier of Butterbeer for the German audience with a higher alcohol content."

"How much higher?" Voldemort snapped, and Noam said meekly,

"Double."

"No," Voldemort said immediately. Noam scowled, but Voldemort sneered,

"Third-year Hogwarts students guzzle down Butterbeers in the Three Broomsticks on the regular. Do you honestly think that they won't also drink your new and improved German formula? Or will it somehow stay out of the hands of underaged people, or be very evidently a different product? Will selling Butterbeer to Germany benefit the macroeconomy of wizarding Britain sufficiently to offset the logistics of managing the legality of the new controlled substance? No. You haven't thought this through, Noam."

He used her first name on purpose then, tossing the parchment back across the desk at her, and he watched as she chewed her lip a little. She quietly tucked the parchment away and asked,

"What do you suggest?"

"Continue selling Butterbeer where it's doing well. Create a non-alcoholic version for sale here and in any country that wants it as a children's drink, including Germany, if they're interested. If they don't want the low-alcohol Butterbeer that exists, then don't sell it to them. It's quite simple. Do you need anything else, Noam? I have a very busy day ahead of me."

She looked very surprised at how he'd spoken to her, but she shook her head a little and tucked her folio into her leather briefcase. She stood from her chair and scoffed quietly.

"Always knew you'd get yourself into some position of power, Tom."

"Oh, you have no idea," Bellatrix whispered, and Voldemort smirked. Bellatrix plastered on a smile and said, "I'll show you out, Ms Wood."

Author's Note: Oh, Voldemort. Starting to assert his authority through a mundane Ministry position. Next up, we finally get to meet his American counterpart, Anthony Moreno. Friend or foe? Hmm…

I know I'm updating fast and that the last chapter was super explicit, but I really didn't hear back on that one. If you are reading and enjoying the story and have a quick moment, I would really be so very grateful for any and all feedback. Thanks so very much!