Year 6: Chapter Five

Narcissa sat primly on a chair in Tom's room, eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Luna had confirmed that the woman would work, although only barely. At last, she shook her head and sighed. "I can't."

"Why not?" Tom demanded.

Narcissa shrugged one shoulder and gave him a wry smile. "I'm certain I could manage the first ritual with no difficulties," she said, "and perhaps even the second, but I'm afraid I have limited room for love in my heart. I was quite aptly named, you might say. The third ritual is impossible for me."

Irritated, Tom shook his head. "You honestly believe that you have even less capacity for love than me? In any event, I don't know that the second set of three will even need to perform the third ritual."

"My lord, if I may," the blonde said, "I believe that one should prepare for the worst and hope for the best." She sniffed. "And I didn't say I had a low capacity for love. I love Draco more than life itself. I simply am not a person who can love many people at once. I give everything I have to my son, and any affection I have left over belongs to my husband."

This went against everything Tom had ever heard about the emotion, with songs and stories speaking of how love was unlimited (as well as blind and fickle, making it sound like a very difficult thing indeed), but then he supposed Narcissa would know her own heart best. It certainly seemed more logical for it to be a finite resource. Unfortunately, that worked against him now. "I can't use Bella," Tom said, but it came out as more of a whine, making him flush.

Narcissa gave him an exasperated look, one he was sure she'd never have given Lord Voldemort. "You told me you are, despite appearances, a facet of the Dark Lord. I can't think of anyone Bella cares for more than her Lord, and the only negative thing she's ever said to me about him is that his new form is not particularly comfortable to the touch. Your current form resolves that." She rose and brushed off her skirt. "Use my sister or don't, but I won't be participating in this ritual. Please excuse me."

Tom stared hopelessly at the door for a long while. At last, long after the girls had come in, expressed their concern, and fallen asleep, Tom rose. He slipped silently down the stairs and into the basement, where a dark form sat in a cell in near-complete darkness.

"Bella," he said.

The witch lifted her head and tittered. "Has a baby bird come to play with 'ittle Bella?"

Tom ignored her. "Legillimens," he incanted instead and dove into her mind.

The fractured mess she called a mindscape was every bit as chaotic as the last time he'd been in it. Tom grit his teeth and waited until a girl - young enough to be a first year - emerged from the storm and cocked her head. "The little bird is being quite naughty," she chided. "What oh what shall I tell Sir Neville?"

Distorted images of Neville and their training sessions danced through her mind, and Tom smiled grimly as a suspicion was confirmed. "I'm not surprised you don't recognize me, Bella," he told the girl, "but I'm disappointed that you'd so willingly betray your master."

The girl morphed into an adult, and Bellatrix as she'd been when they first met stared at him. "You aren't him," she decided, features flickering between her younger and older selves.

"A fortnight before I attacked the Potters, I gave you a golden chalice and instructed you to guard it as an item more precious than your life."

The change was dramatic: her form shifted again into her current self, and she dropped to one knee, head lowered. "I apologize, my Lord. As you said, I didn't recognize you." She lifted her head just slightly, enough to peer up at him through her lashes. "But I swear to you, I would never betray you. I was only attempting to gain the boy's trust so I might return to you!"

Tom hummed skeptically, but in all honesty he'd seen it in her thoughts clearly enough to know that already. "I am, however, but a fragment of Lord Voldemort. Ordinarily, I would not have taken over this body, as I am but a means of securing his immortality." It was more difficult to lie within another's mind, but Tom had never had any trouble using the truth to lie. "However, I've grown concerned. It seems as though Lord Voldemort is…. fraying, I suppose you might say. His new appearance gives the impression he's unable to do so much as a simple glamour, and he has been consistently outdone by a child."

Looking conflicted, Bella nodded. "That's true, my Lord. I've noticed those things as well."

Had she? Tom glanced at her surface thoughts but, as was often the case with her, they were too scattered for him to confidently interpret. "I knew you would, Bella. You have always been my most attentive follower. That is why I've come to request your assistance."

Eyes shining, Bellatrix nodded eagerly. "How may I serve you, my Lord?" she asked.

"I only gained control of this body through a quirk of fate. To maintain that control, I must perform a three-part ritual with several different people. I've chosen you to be one of them."

"Of course, my Lord. Anything for you," she said breathlessly. "When shall we perform this ritual?"

Tom steeled himself. "Tomorrow. It is convenient, having the Longbottom boy believe you to belong to him, so I will allow him to command you to perform the ritual. You need only act as you have been."

"I look forward to the opportunity to serve you once more, my Lord," Bella said, and Tom withdrew from her mind.

"Goodnight, Bella," he said curtly and left.

The next day, when Tom announced after breakfast as they were working on their respective projects in the library that he'd decided to use Bella after all, Neville stood abruptly and nodded. "I'll go get her ready," he said. "Luna, do you mind getting the circle ready?"

Luna cast Tom a sidelong glance, then bounded after Neville down the stairs.

Hermione approached Tom and slid into the seat next to him. "Are you alright? I know you didn't want to use her." Though she sounded sympathetic, Tom felt curiosity lapping at him through the bond.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said with a smile. "I just… She's completely insane, so it's hard to trust her. But I trust Neville, and if he says she'll be alright, then I believe him." It wasn't hard to focus only on reassuring Hermione.

The ritual itself, which took place after lunch while Sirius napped after a carefully applied Sleeping Charm, went smoothly. Neville explained the ritual to Bella, then ordered her to perform it with Tom. She did so methodically and with a great many glances back toward Neville, vibrating with energy as she sought his approval. She really was a brilliant actress.

At last, when the bond between them snapped into place, Tom felt his soul shudder and stabilize, even as an uncomfortable awareness of Bellatrix's feelings appeared.

From there, the summer finished quickly. Although Tom had wanted to retrieve the ring over the summer, he ended up deciding to wait. There wasn't much time left before school resumed, and he found the time better spent making use of the Black library. Using Potter's memories of the resurrection ritual, he'd drafted a rough plan for defeating Voldemort without killing him, and he knew what he would do with Potter's soul once he had it. The only question left was how to retrieve Potter's soul, something Tom expected he wouldn't be able to determine without the dementor on hand to experiment with.

They still didn't know what had happened with the ritual - whether a horcrux had somehow been destroyed by someone else or whether they'd been wrong about the catalyst needed - but Tom thought it exceedingly unlikely that anyone else had discovered and destroyed his remaining horcruxes. The cup was, naturally, safe inside Gringotts, and Nagini was safely by Voldemort's side. The ring was more exposed, but the only other person who should even be searching for it would be Dumbledore. Given the protections on the ring, Tom thought it safe to say that, had Dumbledore located it, the man would be dead. (He was, unfortunately, no such thing.)

Neville wasn't confident enough in his control over Bella to leave her unsupervised for the months until the winter break, so they ended up feeding her Draught of the Living Death to spare Sirius from having to care for her during the year. Bellatrix only glanced once to Tom, checking if he approved of this plan, before downing the potion obediently and falling unconscious. Tom transfigured her into a metal bird and hooked her onto a leather thong for Neville to wear around his neck.

Their school supplies made their way to them by way of Moody and Lupin, the former of whom stomped his way through the house, eye spinning wildly, as though expecting to find Voldemort hiding in a cupboard. Tom wondered if the man had seen Bellatrix on any previous visits, but if he had, he'd said nothing.

The night before they left for school, Tom went to Molly's room and knocked on the door. There was no reply. He entered and frowned at the state of both the room and its occupant. Gone was everything pleasant about Molly Weasley. All that remained was a husk kept alive by nothing more than habit. She stank, and Tom cast a Freshening Charm at her without bothering to ask permission. She was too far gone in her depression to even glance at him. "Mrs. Weasley," Tom said. "Drink this."

He handed her the potion. She took it and downed the contents without even looking at it. Tom sneered at the broken woman. "I hope you're less useless next time I see you," he said and raised his wand. "Obliviate." When he left, Molly Weasley had no idea he'd ever been there, and the bottle containing the potion vanished with him.

In the morning, Tom woke to the smell of pancakes. Ginny woke next, stiffening for a moment before all but leaping out of bed and rushing down the stairs into the kitchen. Tom followed more sedately and found all the Weasleys present. Molly glanced up from the stove with a smile. "Good morning, Harry. Take a seat. Breakfast will be ready in just a moment."

Tom did as told, trying not to feel too smug, but he must have failed, because Ginny shot him a wide-eyed look and asked, "What did you do?"

"Just gave her a potion to help her get over her depression more quickly," he whispered back. The potion was something like the opposite of a love potion in that it removed the emotional attachments connected to another. It wasn't the sort of thing that was in common circulation, mostly because it was so obscure, but once upon a time it was the go-to for rich pureblood parents whose children had fallen for someone 'beneath them.' There was no real antidote, and side effects ranged from memory loss to diminished empathy. Nothing physical, and nothing deadly, although Tom supposed the mental side effects might have played a part in the potion fading to obscurity.

Everyone eventually gathered in the kitchen. They enjoyed their breakfast, and Molly Weasley saw them off to the train station with apologies for the strange lethargy that had come over her for the past year. She looked somewhat confused when Black commented that it was understandable, but she didn't say anything further, choosing instead to spend the last few moments before the train left the station hugging the children.

Author's Note: Depression is strong in this one, so I can't tell if this chapter is really flat or if that's just how I'm feeling. Thought it'd be better to post it though, because there's no real telling when that'll stop being the case. Next real chapter will be the train ride and probably the beginning of school too, but there's an interlude for Luna first.