"Hello" -Normal speech.

'Hello' -Thoughts

"Hello" -Parseltongue.

Take One -Sweets

Following my -dare I call it harebrained- plan to win over the Dark Lord himself, I have managed to gather some of the intelligence to help me during the past three months.

Number one; based on the clothing that he typically wears, I would wager that green is his favourite colour. Slytherin green to be specific.

Number two; he hates it when people are loud (unless they are screaming in misery, the sicko) beat around the bush, or try to start inane conversation. If you have a point you need to get to it.

Number three; he has a God Complex. (No surprise there, honestly.)

Number four; he doesn't do second chances. And if by some chance he tells you otherwise, do not believe him. The bastard is setting you up for failure and is laughing about it behind your back.

Number five; he is a perfectionist, both when it comes to his expectations for others and himself.

Number six; he has a secret sweet tooth. Never to be eaten in front of others (as a baby, I don't count) and he only orders it from his personal House Elf, Kobbly, but he consumes it with shocking frequency all the same.

Keeping all this in mind, I have carefully insisted on the dark green dress when Bella dressed me this morning along with the white stockings and black dress shoes. I also have the piece of wrapped candy that I found in the hallway yesterday, still perfectly edible, clutched in my chubby fist.

(I'm going to Ivan Pavlov his butt.)

I also plan on copying his mannerisms moving forward for everyone -but most importantly, for him- to see. They say that mimicry is the highest form of flattery, after all.

"Are you ready, darlin'?" Bella cooes in my face, pinching my cheek painfully.

I grimace, but stay still and let her man handle me. I've learned that it's better to let her get her bursts of affection out of her system for the time being, or else suffer from double the treatment because I'm "just like the Dark Lord!"

Like, lady, what's that supposed to tell you? (Then again, they obviously had intercourse at least once...Oh my God, is Voldemort a tsundere? Also, I resent being compared to him.)

"Are you ready?" she repeats, narrowing her eyes as her voice turns sickeningly sweet.

"Yeth, Mama," I answer with fake cheer. I'm getting better at acting under pressure, I think.

She beams at me, and I feel myself slowly relaxing as she picks me up and settles me on her hip. She likes it when I "use my words," being "advanced" like that. She likes it even more when I address her as "Mama."

Crisis adverted. (For the time being.)

"Good, now let's go see your Father, shall we?"

She walks confidently through the Lestrange Manor, as if she owns the place -which, as Rodolphus Lestrange's wife, I supposes she does- but then she makes the mistake of making eye contact with another Death Eater in the hallway.

"Ah, Bella! How nice it is to see you-"

"Macmillan," she returns coolly. "I don't believe that I've given you permission to use my first name."

His fake, greasy smile falters, but he's quick to force it back up. "Of course, my apologies, Mrs. Lestrange. I only wanted to see if you thought about my wife's offer to watch little Hecate, is all." He shoots me a smile at this, as if I have any control over Bella's desicion-making. "We have two children ourselves, our youngest around your daughter's age. I'm sure she gets lonely without any friends of her own, yes?"

"Hecate is fine. Now if you'd excuse me, the Dark Lord is waiting for us." She doesn't let the man say so much as a farewell as she marches away.

I peer over Bella's shoulder, catching the man's scowl. I resist the urge to flip him the bird before we turn the corner, but just barely. 'Greasy git,' I grumble to myself. He isn't the first to approach Bella or Narcissa is hopes of raising his family's status in the long run, nor will he will be the last. Although I may understand where they're coming from, it doesn't stop me from resenting the idea of being stuck with babies and small, whiny children.

People have yet to muster the courage to approach Voldemort about it yet, but I can't completely wipe the possibility of it yet. It all depends on how Voldemort reacts to the first request.

'I doubt they'd be doing the same if I was anyone else's affair baby, but Voldemort's.'

I don't even share the last name Lestrange, but Bella's maiden name Black. Of course she considers it a privilege -"more pure than the House of Lestrange"- but in all honestly, I doubt it's because of any other reason than Voldemort not wanting anyone to know he's a Riddle, and because of some Pureblood law that hates illegitimate children.

'Wait...Does this make me a literal bastard?'

We pass the hallway that would have led us to the study, and as I notice it my stomach is already beginning to do flips. If we're not going to the study, then there is only one other place to go.

We arrive at one of the entrances of the front lobby, only separated by the grand double doors closed in front of us. Bella knocks on it smartly. "It's Bella, my lord," she announces before it can be asked.

"Come in."

She enters from one of the side doors, marching forward until she stops a few feet away from Voldemort, who is sitting on real, classical throne made out of black and grey marble. I look away as soon as I accidentally make eye contact with the arrogant man. She clutches me close to her chest so that she can bow on one knee.

"You called for me, my lord?"

"I did. I want you to gather five others to..." As he continues to explain the next attack against Dumbledore's people, I squirm in Bella's arms until she relents and puts me down on the ground, still kneeling.

I steel myself, taking a deep breath as I push against the polished tiles in order to stand. 'It's now or never. Don't you dare miss this up.' Once I'm standing properly, and I can trust myself not to lose my footing, I slowly wobble my way towards Voldemort.

Bella gasps, and even Voldemort trails off once I'm close.

I can feel my heartbeat quicken, the wrapped candy becoming warm from my sweaty palms. I don't dare raise my gaze higher than his knees, least I lose my resolve.

I'm breathing heavily by the time I reach him -only ten feet from Bella, goddamnit- but my chest swells with pride nonetheless. It's hard learning how to walk again! And even harder still to practice without prying eyes! Resting my free hand on the leg of his throne, it's all that I can do to muster enough energy to remain standing.

'You can do this,' I tell myself. 'Don't be a chicken.' Slowly, my gaze drifts up until I lock eyes with him, who doesn't seem impressed with my display and with a single brow arched.

I can't help but scowl. What was he expecting? For me to do cartwheels? Was he able to walk at five months? No, I think not!

"My lord, that was her first steps!" Bella exclaims, just a little misty.

I instinctively stiffen, half expecting her to lunch forward and crush me against her chest. Thankfully she was able to hold herself back, if for nothing else then the fact that Voldemort hasn't allowed her to stand yet.

Voldemort simply hums, opening his mouth to continue with his orders.

"Dada," I ask with my sweetest voice, gently tugging on his robe before he can speak.

He glances at me wordlessly, if a little irritated.

I swallow. I raise my trembling hand, the one with the candy, and wait for him to offer his own before opening mine. "For Dada," I tell him with a forced smile.

He frowns as he eyes the treat. And then proceeds to ignore me in favour of his business with Bella, still holding my gift.

I take a deep breath, reminding myself that this is only the first attempted and I shouldn't expect results so soon. Winning him over and manipulating his feelings with classical conditions takes time. Lots and lots of time. I should happy that he accepted the candy at all.

"...And tell Severus that I would like a word with him. You are dismissed."

"Of course, my lord. As you wish," Bella responds reverently, bowing her head before swiftly standing. She hesitates a second, but when Voldemort makes no move to keep me, she reluctantly steps forward to take me before leaving the room.

'I think I can count the first mission as a success,' I muse to myself.

Now for the second part.

Thank you to those that favourited and followed, and a big thank you to Vera, zindiiii, and zovumeAnjaa who reviewed!

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