Bad Romance,

Chapter 79, That's What My Therapist Say

"Well now that you boys have made it home safe, we can take ourselves to bed," Geo Zabini said as Sabra covered a yawn with a slender hand.

Her long sharp nails glittered with an iridescent red polish that was obviously charmed to sparkle.

Bellatrix had never been a sparkle girl herself, but she supposed the look suited The Black Widow well enough.

"Yes," Sabra murmured, nodding in agreement to her husband's words.

"I was up at five a.m. making poison misters for the Aurors and Geo was kindly helping me so we're both rather done in."

"Like poison spray," Rabastan inquired in obvious interest.

Sabra nodded.

"It should serve as an unexpected form of defense and protection that doesn't require a spell so won't set off any magical alarms," she explained.

"Good shit," Rabastan said, nodding in approval.

Sabra merely arched one brow in mild amusement and gave a slight nod as she rose gracefully from her chair.

"Good night everyone, and well done on ridding the world of the likes of Skeeter."

"Yes, thanks for that," Geo grinned, moving to the library door and opening it for his wife.

"Good night, parents," Blaise called and Gellert grinned.

"Night," he echoed, his gaze fond on the Zabinis as they left the library together.

The couple would never have bothered making poison sprays for the Aurors were Gellert not head of defense, Bellatrix thought. They were never ones to interfere, being more into saving their own skin above all else.

"It isn't odd thinking of people as your parents who could technically be your grandchildren," Bellatrix asked Grindelwald after the library door closed behind the 'parents.'

Gellert gave a careless shrug.

"I don't think of it in that way. To me they are my parents, the only ones I ever knew really."

As it turned out, the potion of youth had a slight danger. Unless you knew the exact age of the one who'd given their life to make the draft, you may end up younger or older than desired if too much or not enough youth was in the potion.

As the one Gellert took had been bought and was rather old, the amount of years it would give had been unknown. When Gellert was youthened, he ended up around seventeen years old. As he quickly became attached to Zabini at the hip, the parents took him under their wing. At the time, to hear Regulus tell it, Grindelwald was, at least at times skittish and uncertain from fifty years in solitary in Nurmengard.

With all that considered, someone wanting to look after him in parental roles probably felt a bit reassuring in spite of the fact he was Gellert Grindelwald, Bellatrix supposed. According to the Minister, Grindelwald's inner child was far too outer, and perhaps he would've always been young and carefree had he not felt the need to change the wizarding world. If only he'd take an interest in that again, because for Merlin's sake it certainly still needed changing.

"Your birth parents died when you were very young, then," Rodolphus asked almost sympathetically.

Of course though he hadn't lost his own mum as a child, he was a young adult when it happened so could relate to a degree.

Gellert nodded.

"Sorry for your loss," Rod said.

"I don't remember them except for a few vague impressions, but thank you," Gellert said.

"So...like is that why you see your therapist," Rabastan asked.

"Not to be rude or anything, mate, but you did mention it, and of course I'm curious."

Bellatrix was not curious at all. She wanted no part of therapy or any Mugglefucker rummaging about in her mind, pretending to understand her.

Grindelwald smiled slightly as he shook his head.

"No, not about that. At least not directly. And it's perfectly fine to ask. I did mention childhood patterns being brought into our adult lives when I spoke of therapy, so I understand your reasoning. I see my therapist because of something she calls a mild case of PTSD."

"you think Skeeter had a shitty childhood then," Rodolphus asked.

"Not that it excuses her shitty actions or anything, I'm just curious."

Gellert nodded.

"Almost certainly so."

Bellatrix smirked, pushing back a tangle of black curls with one hand that had fallen over her shoulder.

"She was likely just as insufferable then, so probably was neglected out of necessity."

Everyone chuckled in appreciation before Grindelwald ruined the light moment by turning the conversation back to a more uncomfortable topic.

"My therapist says that not only my time in prison but the surprise manner in which I was captured affects how I can see and interpret situations today, particularly when under stress. It sounds silly and even annoying, but I suppose perhaps it is true."

He shrugged uncomfortably.

"My point being, if this is the case with me, it is quite likely the case with all of you, considering how much worse Azkaban was than solitary in Nurmengard. I had no Dementors, after all. Not to mention what Voldemort did to warp your minds in nineteen-seventy-nine."

Bellatrix felt her stomach sinking, because she knew he was probably right even if she didn't like it one bit. She knew Azkaban had unhinged them at least some. Not to mention being locked away for so long made it harder to function in the world when free especially when it came to confrontation or mundane activities.

In a way, though, it had just enhanced a problem, for the Vanilla Muggle loving aspects of wizarding society had always stifled them, cramping their style at the very least. Time spent in Azkaban had just made that more pronounced, though.

It was harder to think in certain situations, and everything could get all weird when emotions she couldn't explain interfered with things. Working Black Ops usually kept them too busy for anything to really come up, but with the newly discovered knowledge of what Voldemort had done to them, and attempted to do to their baby, inner foundations were feeling a bit more shaky.

"So you're saying we should go to your therapist," Rabastan asked, expression wary and doubtful.

"I mean that shit really isn't our thing, you know?"

Gellert smirked.

"And you think it's mine? Because trust me it isn't! I just felt it interfering with my relationship and at times with work at the Ministry."

As he spoke, Blaise took his hand and the two smiled softly at one another.

Bellatrix opened her mouth to tell them to get a room, but as they were now in their own home, they may just do that.

"How can it affect your relationship," Bellatrix asked.

She certainly didn't want that happening with her and Rod.

"Forgive the personal question, as it is obviously none of our business...I simply do not wish to suffer the same effects."

She glanced nervously at Rod to find him wearing a slight frown that was surprisingly difficult to interpret considering how well they knew each other.

"It's nothing really," Blaise spoke up.

"We can just get stupid over little things and decide the other doesn't love us."

His lips twitched in a slightly embarrassed smile as his icy gaze dropped to regard his own lap with evident fascination.

The dark green robe he wore was stylish enough, but nothing to contemplate that hard, Bellatrix thought with an inner smirk. Witnessing Zabini showing discomfort was a novelty in itself as the man generally seemed all blank cool boredom and little more.

"We can also become jealous to insane degrees when there is zero need," he concluded.

"Yet oddly over entirely different things," Gellert added with a fleeting though amused grin.

"Well you weren't imprisoned, so what's your damage," Rodolphus asked Blaise in open curiosity.

Good question, Bellatrix thought. She was just as curious as Rod to hear the answer to that.

Zabini shrugged.

"Our therapist says it is a result of living in fear over Voldemort for so long. She said it had even me more insecure than I knew. Oh and the bit where my dad faked his death seven times apparently did something to me as well. Perhaps it made me resentful, I forget."

He gave a dry smile that didn't quite reach the level of cocky he likely intended.

"I am learning to identify and explore my emotions with far more success than I expected, honestly."

Now that was a surprise, especially the part where Zabini actually had emotions.

"I suppose it may be useful, but...I still don't know if I trust it," Bellatrix said.

"Well I know and I don't trust anyone poking about in my feelings," Rod said.

"Not even me, come to think of it."

"What if we did...I don't know a group therapy sort of thing," Rabastan asked.

"Like where we all share our fee-fees about being in prison and shit...See if anything comes up. Would you do that with us," he asked Grindelwald and the blonde wizard nodded.

"Sure. Why not?"

Bellatrix nodded slowly, trying to ignore the reluctance hiding out in the pit of her stomach. She knew this was probably necessary if they wanted to understand everything and have full control once more. Or at least as much control as they truly cared to have. Not being in complete control could be a great deal of fun at times, after all.

"I suppose I could try that out."

"I still don't see the point," Rod complained.

"Who's your therapist anyway?"

Grindelwald smirked.

"Snape's wife, actually. It's rather informal, and Blaise was the one to ask her to do it when she said I had a bit of this PTSD thing."

Bellatrix blinked.

"Anyone who would marry Snape is crazier than we could ever be, so on that note, no thanks."

"Don't be silly," Grindelwald chastised with a frown.

"She is a very together young lady. A powerful wand maker, with a good head on her shoulders. She's studied the topic of psychology extensively and I find her therapy to have merit."

"It has really helped," Bellatrix asked, not bothering to hide her open doubt and incredulity.

Blaise nodded.

"It really has."

Bellatrix sighed. If Zabini even benefited, she supposed she should give it a try.

"Allright. Let's do it, then. The group therapy that is. We'll see what we think of that for a start."

"Must we," Rodolphus asked, expression at once pleading and panicked.

Bellatrix grinned.

"We must."