"Abraxas. Do come in." Voldemort snapped the hem of his velvet-trimmed black robe and sniffed lightly as his host and old compatriot stepped into his office. Abraxas Malfoy knew he was in a good position these days, Voldemort thought. After all, it had been Abraxas who had offered up his regal home as Voldemort's headquarters. It was Abraxas who had warned Voldemort that a prophecy had been made and that the Department of Mysteries and Aurors were hunting down Bellatrix. And Abraxas didn't even remember that he'd been the one to relay Cassandra Vablatsky's prophecy to Voldemort. So, yes, Abraxas Malfoy was riding a bit of a wave among Voldemort's Death Eaters.

Now the ice-blond and crisp-eyed wizard stepped up to the chair on the guest side of Voldemort's desk and waited to be given permission to sit. Voldemort decided to keep this meeting cordial.

"Do sit down," he said as warmly as he could manage, and he took his own seat opposite Abraxas. He folded his hands on the desk and tipped his head a little, cutting right to the meat of things. "Bellatrix Black has been in my quarters these last few hours; I recovered her from the Department of Mysteries and brought her back here. She is recovering from Paralysing Potion."

"Yes, My Lord; I expect she's far safer here than she would be at the Black family home," Abraxas nodded. "I've every reason to believe that work will be chaos today, given that you had to eliminate Robertson and those Aurors in order to rescue Bellatrix. There will be a manhunt underway for her, and the first place they'll go is her family home."

"Listen," Voldemort said quietly, leaning forward toward Abraxas. "That prophecy is dangerous. It states that without Bellatrix, I will fail. That means that anyone who wants to see me fail need only take Bellatrix from me to make it happen."

Abraxas' eyes went wide, and he nodded with realisation. "So she must be kept very safe indeed."

"Precisely," said Voldemort. "Under lock and key. She must be hidden away so that no one can find her. I need the Malfoy family summer home, Abraxas."

Abraxas' mouth fell open just a little. "You mean… The Reverie in Looe? In Cornwall? It's not even… registered with the… oh."

Not even registered with the Ministry, he'd been about to say, and Voldemort pinched his lips as he nodded. The Reverie in Looe, a small resort town in Cornwall, was a place where the Malfoy men had spent generations taking their mistresses. Voldemort knew that only because Abraxas had let slip once when drunk that his family had such a cottage, but that he had no use for it since he was madly in love with his wife Caroline and had no mistress. Abraxas had taken Caroline and Lucius there for summers when Lucius had been small, but no one had been there except a House-Elf for maintenance in several years, so far as Voldemort knew. He gave Abraxas a very deliberate look and asked seriously,

"Do I need to get its location from you and then alter your memory, Abraxas, or can I trust you?"

Abraxas hesitated. He blinked a few times and gulped. "Master, I wish to be the finest servant for you that I can possibly be. I think perhaps it is best that I describe its location to you and that you then Obliviate this entire meeting from my mind. I do not wish for anyone - like Albus Dumbledore, for instance - to be able to see these memories from me. I do not wish to betray you, however unintentionally."

"Good man." Voldemort nodded crisply and asked, "Where is The Reverie?"

"They came here at six in the morning," said Druella Black tearfully. "They tore apart the house searching for her, looking for any trace of her. Narcissa's still home, and they interrogated her, asking her where her sister was. Well, of course poor Cissy didn't have any idea. None of us do."

"That's for the best," said Voldemort firmly, standing in the foyer of the Black family townhouse. He couldn't linger here, he knew. He licked his bottom lip and asked, "Was anyone hurt? Was anything damaged?"

"They broke a lamp or two, Master; nothing that we couldn't fix," Cygnus Black III assured him. "Is Bellatrix safe?"

"She is. They captured her in the middle of a mission." Voldemort said nothing of the prophecy; it appeared that the Aurors who had come to the Blacks' had said nothing of it, either. Good. "They intercepted her in a village where she was carrying out work. They took her to the Ministry of Magic and held her there for some time, but I was able to get there relatively quickly and free her. I've got her now."

"Oh, good. Will she be coming home soon?" asked Druella. Even Cygnus looked at his wife like she was mad then, and he scoffed,

"Druella, they're searching for her. Aurors. Why would she come back here? I trust the Dark Lord to keep her safe somewhere more discreet for now, don't you?"

"Oh. Yes. Of course." Druella pursed her lips, her hands trembling at her sides. "Do ask her to write to us later today and let us know she's all right, will you, My Lord?"

"No, Druella. I can't do that." Voldemort sighed and explained, "Bellatrix is going to be hidden away for some time. That means no contact whatsoever. No owls; they're far too traceable. No letters at all."

"Where will she be hiding, Master?" asked Cygnus curiously, and Voldemort just sighed.

"I can't tell you that, I'm afraid. All I can do is promise to keep her as safe and comfortable as I possibly can. She'll have everything she needs. This is for her own good."

The Blacks seemed profoundly uncomfortable with the idea that their daughter was some sort of prisoner in protective custody, but they bid their master a good afternoon before he left their home with an Expanded suitcase full of Bellatrix's belongings. He Apparated back to Malfoy Manor and made his way to Abraxas' office, which was smaller and humbler than his own. Abraxas wasn't there, and Voldemort reckoned the wizard was still at the Department of Mysteries pretending not to know anything about why multiple Aurors and other Ministry employees were dead and the apprehended prisoner was missing. He was pretending not to know about the prophecy that had prompted the hunt after Bellatrix in the Midlands. He was probably just standing around with a baffled expression on his pale face, pretending to be very aggrieved. Voldemort smirked at the idea of that, at the notion of his follower feigning complete ignorance about this whole matter.

Voldemort made his way up the winding staircase that led to the corridor where his quarters were, and when he reached them, he took out his wand and unwarded the door. He opened it to find Bellatrix sitting on one of the brown sofas with a book. She flew to her feet when she saw him, and he said rather gratefully,

"I see that dreadful Paralysing Potion's entirely worn off, then."

"Yes, it has, My Lord." Bellatrix set the book down on the sofa and eyed the suitcase in Voldemort's hand. He affirmed,

"I went to your parents' house. Got all of your clothes, shoes, and toiletries."

Bellatrix's cheeks went very red as she processed the idea that Lord Voldemort had Summoned her undergarments and personal items into a suitcase. She cleared her throat and muttered,

"Thank you, Master."

"Aurors went to your parents' house early this morning searching for you. They'll search everywhere for you. Eventually, they will search here. Someday, when someone in my inner circle betrays my location, they'll come here looking for me, and in turn you. And both prophecies make it very clear that, without you, I will tumble and fall from power. So anyone who wishes for my downfall will think that the easiest way to defeat me -"

"Is by separating me from you, however permanently," Bellatrix interjected softly. Voldemort nodded slowly. Bellatrix looked very afraid then.

"I am not afraid of dying, Master. I am not afraid of being assassinated. But I am afraid that if I were captured and thrown into some prison or dungeon, that the prophecies would come to pass and you would… you would…"

"Fail. Be defeated," Voldemort completed. Bellatrix shut her eyes.

"You must keep me very near to you, and I must be entirely yours," she reasoned, "but now there are prophecies known to your enemies, prophecies saying that the way to conquer you is to take me away from you. And so the only solution is -"

"To keep you safely hidden away," Voldemort said very firmly. "I would apologise, Bella, but I am not sorry. You are my most loyal servant. Serve me now in this capacity. You said it yourself. You must be near to me, and you must be entirely mine, and with this prophecy known to my enemies, the only way forward is to keep you locked away. You must understand that I am not in a position to do otherwise."

Bellatrix opened her eyes, and they looked damp with tears. She asked rather sorrowfully,

"Will I be locked in these quarters here, Master?"

"No. As I said, eventually they will come looking for you here," Voldemort pointed out. "I have a much more secure hiding-place for you. A place whose existence is known only to a select few - the Malfoys. I discussed the use of it with Abraxas and then wiped the conversation from his memory. I also Confounded him into not using it again until further notice."

Bellatrix stared curiously at him, her full lips parted, and she shook her head a little. "I'm to… to be warded up in a house by myself to keep me hidden away?"

"Not by yourself," said Voldemort, as though it were obvious. "I'll stop staying here at the manor. I'll spend my nights there, and I'll only come back here when I have meetings and missions. My residence will be there, with you, in secret."

Bellatrix blinked, seeming more bewildered than ever. The two of them were to live together in a secluded, secretive location, with the Dark Lord coming back to reality only for his work. Voldemort quirked up half his mouth at Bellatrix and approached her. He curled her hair back over her ear with his fingers and murmured,

"It won't be so bad, hmm?"

"No, My Lord; it won't be so very bad," she smiled back at him. Voldemort sighed and told her,

"I've taken down the Anti-Apparition Charms around Malfoy Manor for right now so that you don't have to leave these chambers to leave the grounds. I'm taking you by Side-Along Apparition to our new location. Let's go quickly; I don't like this place being unsecured for very long."

He held out his arm, and Bellatrix snared her hand through his elbow. She looked around, as though knowing that she wasn't going to see this place again for some time. Voldemort quickly Disapparated, and there was a black, pinching whirl. He imagined The Reverie, a white Georgian house right on the seaside in Looe, Cornwall. When they came to, Voldemort and Bellatrix were standing on the lawn outside the white house, with Cornish palms all around them. Voldemort turned a little and saw a rocky shore down below them with waves washing up calmly onto it. He hurried up to the double glass doors leading from the sunroom out onto the lawn, clutching Bellatrix's wrist and yanking her up to the house.

"Let's get inside; I haven't warded this place up yet," he reminded her. He used his wand to fling the glass doors open, and Bellatrix trotted to follow him into the house. Inside, she began walking about, exploring the sunroom and the dining room to which it led. Voldemort trailed after her, studying the elegant decorating that had been done in this, the place where Malfoy men had brought their women. He'd need to get them a House-Elf, he thought distantly. He'd have to have Abraxas or Cygnus discreetly take care of that for him. The kitchen, thinking of House-Elves, was a copper-and-stone covered French-style beauty. This house was magnificent, Voldemort thought to himself.

"It's lovely," Bellatrix mused, obviously thinking the same thing as him. She turned to face him in the blue and white parlour and asked, "This is the Malfoys' place?"

"Summer home," Voldemort fibbed. Then, sighing and deciding for some reason that he disliked lying to Bellatrix, he corrected, "It's where Malfoy men brought their mistresses. Abraxas doesn't have a mistress. He brought Caroline and Lucius here a few times, but it's been unused for a while. It's called The Reverie. We're in Looe, in Cornwall."

Bellatrix's lips parted, and she approached Voldemort, standing quite near him. She reached for the suitcase in his hand, and she said softly,

"Thank you for getting all my belongings, My Lord. I suppose I ought to unpack them, since I am to stay here."

"I expect there's a bedroom upstairs that you'll find to your liking," Voldemort nodded, staring down at her and marveling at how beautiful her wide brown eyes were.

"I must allow you to choose your bedroom first, Master," Bellatrix hummed. Voldemort lowered his mouth near hers and whispered,

"Why don't we go up there together and make our selections, hmm?"

Bellatrix nodded, releasing the suitcase back into his hand and threading her arms up around his shoulders. She kissed him delicately and murmured,

"It won't be so very bad, My Lord."

"No, Bella," he said, threading his fingers through hers and kissing her back carefully. "It won't be so very bad. Let's go upstairs."

Author's Note: Who wants to see what happens during bedroom selection? Haha. So, poor Bella has to be locked up at the Malfoys' Mistress House, but Voldemort plans on spending his nights with her. So, as they've both said, "It won't be so very bad."

I'm at our lake house over the next few days, so I'm probably not going to be able to write until Monday. I'll do my best. In the meantime, please let me know what you think. I am so grateful for you reading and for your feedback.