A/N: Hey guys! Be proud of me; this was written in one sitting in two and a half hours! I quite enjoyed this chapter myself, and I hope you will too. Thank you to Sachita, Sarah, Aquitane, LittleMsGiggles and Eva; I always smile when I see your reviews in my inbox. Anyway, I give you Death Eater Date part II! Hope you guys like it.

Minerva noticed Hagrid taking a scruffy barn owl into his house. "That's odd," she wondered aloud. "And just today he got a rabbit..." but she didn't have long to dwell on it.

The distance to Cygnus Black's manor was too great for the two to reach it in just one bout of Apparation. Five stops later, Minerva found herself swaying in place in a well-lit street in one of the richer wizarding neighborhoods. "Dear lord, Tom. It's as though you're trying to give me motion sickness, or something."

"Or something," he replied easily, wrapping an arm around her. "Cygnus' is nearby, if you don't mind a short walk."

"Oh, damn it!" Minerva exclaimed, throwing up her arms and stepping backward unsteadily, having not quite gotten her bearings yet. "I left my cloak behind."

Riddle raised his eyebrows. "It's not too cold out." She stepped away from him, crossing her arms and staring at him pointedly. "What do you want me to do about it?" Riddle asked quizzically, still not getting it.

"Give me yours, obviously. This is where you're supposed to tenderly drape your coat along my shoulders, and put your arm around me again. Honestly, have you never read any cheaply written romance novels?"

"I flatter myself that I haven't." He rolled his eyes and bundled her up in his jacket. "And my opinion of you just dropped dramatically now that I know you have, and actually like those insipid cliches."

Minerva giggled. "I actually am nauseated by them. I just wanted to see if I could make you do something stupid for me." She poked him. "And I have."

He inclined his head. "Well played," he conceded. "Now, do you intend to delay us any further?" Minerva shrugged and put her arm through his.

"Which way, my Lord?" she inquired playfully.

Riddle started. "What did you just call me?"

She tilted her head. "'My Lord,'" she repeated. "What, you don't like it? I thought it might appeal to your self-important ways."

Riddle smiled mechanically. "Touching." They walked the short distance to Cygnus Black's manor along the brick avenues of _, Minerva appreciating the pretty scenery, with little pixies brushing glitter onto the winter tulips that lined the medians of the streets, and the green boughs of the pine trees peeking through the melting snow that encrusted them, while Riddle looked past them at the imposing manor house on the low rise a few yards away. It was a towering behemoth of slate grey stone, winter shrubbery hemming in the flowerbeds that grew on either side of the tiled walkway to the front door. It was an well-constructed house, but devoid of any real elegance or grace in its appearance.

Minerva tilted her head back as she took in the house. "Wow."

"Nice, isn't it?" He let the heavy knocker fall three times.

"I was going to go with 'ostentatious' but okay." She started as she felt his arm draw her next to him. "What are you doing?"

He arched a brow. "What do you mean?"

The door opened, this time by Cygnus himself rather than Skiffkins the house elf. "Afternoon, my Lo...oh." His voice trailed off. "I see you brought a guest."

"Now, we discussed this earlier, and I mentioned I would be bringing Minerva." Riddle stepped into the house without invitation, dragging her along with him. "You really must learn to pay attention, Cygnus," he added snidely over his shoulder, and Minerva couldn't help but wonder why Cygnus took the jibes without once expressing dislike. It was clear which man held the authority over the other. "Minerva, why don't you talk to Druella for a bit?" Riddle kissed her cheek lightly. "But don't stay away too long."

Minerva smiled innocently. "What's this? You can't be missing me after only a few moments."

"I'd never miss you." He turned to Cygnus. "When will the others get here?"

"Probably around five, my Lord." His voice was low. "And you're certain she can meet them, even sit in on a meeting?"

"Don't question my methods," Riddle replied. "I've planned this thing through. Now, how has recruitment proceeded in..." and they spoke for a while of the goings-on in wizard London.

Meanwhile, Minerva chatted with Druella. "So, you're married with a baby now. Time flies, doesn't it?"

Druella laughed. "I'm fine with it, though my attitude may change in another fifteen years." Minerva felt vaguely uncomfortable talking to her. Druella Black, nee Rosier, was pleasant enough and certainly pretty, with her strong-featured face and high cheekbones, but she had the bland, irreverent bearing of a woman born into a wealthy pureblood household with the luxury of never having worried about anything of substance. "Would you like to see the baby?"

"Certainly," Minerva replied, eager for something to bypass the awkward lapses in conversation she and Druella seemed to frequently encounter. She tapped her foot against the expensive Persian rug, glancing over to where Tom and Cygnus sat at the game table, evidently deep in discussion. Tom's brow was furrowed, and his long fingers were clenched on the armrests of his chair. Cygnus looked very grave at whatever news he was relating. She was jolted from her reverie when Druella returned with baby Bellatrix. "Oh, isn't she a darling," she said softly, taking the baby in her arms carefully.

"Thank you," Druella said proudly, settling down next to Minerva on the Victorian sofa. Bellatrix Black was a lovely baby, with a shock of soft black hair and dark eyes that sparkled when she gurgled. "I like to think she takes after me, but she's more like Cygnus."

"Has she shown any signs of magic yet?" Minerva asked, taking off her necklace and dangling it in front of Bella's face. As if in answer to her question the pendant on her necklace transformed into a stuffed kitten.

Druella adjusted the blankets. "Yesterday she made the lapwings come to her nursery window."

"Minerva, come here for a minute," Riddle called. Minerva stood. Perhaps a combination of the loud tone he used or her abrupt rising prompted Bella to start crying. Minerva gently soothed the infant as she walked over to Riddle. To her surprise, his lip curled. "Give her back to Druella, Minerva."

She was taken aback. "What's the matter, you don't like babies?"

"Not when they're squalling like that, no."

Minerva bounced the baby on her hip. "You're the one who upset her with your yelling. Why are you a teacher if you don't like children?"

"Give it." He took Bella from her with distaste, and set her on his lap. Minerva noticed Cygnus tense, and saw anxiety enter his face.

"She has a name, Tom."

"Whatever." Riddle drew little patterns in the air in front of Bella's face, little swirls of green, gold, and silver, all sparkling and reflected in the baby's wide eyes. She tried to grab at them with her chubby hands, but they dissipated as her small fingers closed around them. "She's stopped crying," Riddle noted.

Minerva's face softened as she regarded Riddle with the baby on his lap. Certainly a man who sat entertaining a baby couldn't genuinely dislike them. It was likely a facade he put on, finding such things embarrassing on his part. "You look good with a baby, Tom," she found herself saying.

"Do I?" He drew up a chair for her with a flick of his wand. "Why don't you join me, and I'll look twice as good."

She rolled her eyes. "You're such a flirt." She found herself annoyed at the ease with which he was able to send her mind into a delighted, distracted, fluttery state.

"You enjoy it." He tried to give Bella back to her, but the baby had affixed her hands to his shirt. "Care to... help with this?"

She laughed aloud delightedly. "No, she likes you! How adorable."

Riddle looked at her pleadingly. "I'd really like to give her back now."

"Oh, darling." She turned his face and kissed him. "But you look so fatherly with her."

He made a wry face. "Heaven forbid I should look fatherly." He turned his attention back to the subject at hand. "Now, I said you would find out about the Death Eaters, didn't I?"

She nodded, trying to conceal her excitement. "You did."

"Very well then. And I also told you'd I'd explain how I got that little...injury, didn't I?"

Minerva rolled her eyes. "Stop drawing it out and tell me, darling."

Cygnus sighed. "It's like I'm not even here," he said ruefully.

Riddle ignored him. "Observe," he said, starting to pull up his shirtsleeve, stopping when he realized he'd drop Bella if he continued further. "Um..."

Minerva took the baby from him, looking on interestedly as he pressed the scar and it burned black. She was rather repulsed when she saw the snake clearly for the first time, and to her disgust it was protruding from a skull's open jaw. It slithered in place on his arm, and it clearly was a painful experience, as she noticed his arm tighten. "Don't tell me you carved that into your skin, Tom. I was thinking about taking you to meet my parents for the weekend, and if you're a self-mutilator I'm already having second thoughts."

Riddle smiled at her boyishly. "Don't worry, I didn't."

"Really."

"Yes. I branded it. Much quicker."

Minerva was not amused. "And why, dare I ask?"

"You'll see in a minute." As if to emphasize his point, several Death Eaters apparated into the room without warning, masks, hoods, and robes all in place. They stopped a bit confusedly when they realized where they were, but knelt all the same as Riddle strode to the center of the room to stand among them. Minerva felt oddly self concious, standing with a baby as all the others were on their knees. Riddle smiled sardonically. "You too, Minerva. You wanted to join us for a meeting. On your knees."

Minerva snorted. "Of course not. We're not at that stage in our relationship yet. Don't get overeager." She smiled with satisfaction as the world's arguably greatest dark lord actually blushed and averted his eyes. "Slow down, crazy," she added in a manner much like the Sassy Gay Friend youtube sensation some sixty years later. "Slow down."

"You know that's not what I- though if you want... But of course I don't have that in mind- at least, not til you-" He groaned, frustrated and furious with himself for that display in front of his followers. "Fine. Stay standing." He found that he had quite lost command of the meeting already, and decided to skip formalities. "Let's get straight to business, gentlemen." They stood around him, concealing grins. Except for Dolohov, who dared to chuckle. Riddle glared. "Remove your masks. You won't be needing them tonight."

"I know what he'll be needing...or getting... tonight," Doholov snickered, elbowing Yaxley. He then found himself unable to talk, and therefore unable to cast a countercurse to Riddle's silencing charm.

Minerva took his arm, smiling sweetly. "What are they for, darling?"

Riddle ignored her, wrapping his arm around her waist. "Minerva here is interested in joining our cause-"

"Which I have to find out more about before I can join-" she interjected hastily, but Riddle waved her words away as if they were of no consequence and continued speaking.

"-and is sitting in on one of our meetings."

Minerva wrinkled her nose. Riddle kissed the tip of it. The Death Eaters exchanged looks. Dolohov chuckled again.

"Dolohov!" Riddle barked sharply. "Explain to ma mie here what we stand for."

"Um. Pureblood supremacy, and..." Dolohov furrowed his brow, thinking. "Do you want me to mention the other things, or-"

"Malfoy, help the moron out," Riddle said, making a mental note to flay Dolohov alive later. Leave it to him to make his organization seem like the brainchild of an immature madman, with complete idiots for members.

The sad part was, it was a rather accurate appraisal of the future of the Death Eaters.

"The Death Eaters are the dar...Tom's means of acclimatizing the wizarding public to the idea of keeping magic restricted to those that actually are worthy of the art," Malfoy said smoothly, understanding what Riddle wanted. "We merely promote the idea that magic is best suited to those with it far back in their ancestry. Naturally, this means more pureblooded families are desirable, but.." He shrugged, nonchalant. "We can't afford Squibs demanding wands, can we?"

Minerva frowned. "Sounds very utopian, Tom. What's up with the scar?"

"The dark mark lets me summon them whenever I want, and let's me know when they're calling me," he replied offhandly.

"Mmhmm," she said skeptically. "And why is it the dark mark, and the Death Eaters? Bit morbid, don't you think?"

Riddle had anticipated the question, and had already formulated an answer he was quite proud of. "I was going to go with Death Munchers, but Cygnus convinced me not too. Fortunate, too; it would have sounded ridiculous." He laughed.

"I see." Minerva sat through the meeting, which consisted mainly of the men briefing Tom on various successes and highly glossed over failures, often spoken of in what she suspected were deliberately vague terms so she'd be at a loss on the their true nature. Still, the evening, as far as evenings went, was enjoyable. She noticed the men looked at her appraisingly -she liked to think it was the tartan dress, though she knew otherwise- evidently, they realized Tom's behaviour was altered as a result of her presence, though for better or worse she couldn't tell. The whole thing seemed ridiculous, though. Pureblood supremacy was perhaps the most ridiculous cause to strive for, and as far as she knew, it would never work. Obviously there was more to the Death Munchers than Tom was letting on, and obviously she'd have to go along with his bullshit "pureblood supremacy" excuse if she wanted to find out more. It was still more obvious that he was the uncontestable leader of the group. She found herself relieved that she'd have nothing very incriminating to report to Albus, however. She wasn't fond of the possiblity of Tom getting in trouble. The dinner went well, and the wine to follow was excellent, but Riddle made no sign of leaving, insisting she visit the greenhouses with him.

The foliage was dense, and it was quite as though they'd stepped into a rainforest instead of an upscale _ home, Minerva decided. She felt Riddle's hand find her own as he pointed out various types of plants and insects. There were snakes as well, she discovered, hanging from the branches, wrapped around chair legs, and even slithering underfoot on occasion. Riddle laughed when she started for the first time. "They aren't poisonous," he said as her fingers tightened in his own. Raising his voice a bit, he made odd, slightly strangled hissing noises, and the snakes all came forward and gathered around them at whatever he said.

"Tom!" Minerva involuntarily clutched his arm. "Stop that."

Riddle spoke to the snakes again. A long eastern snake remained, rising up to eye level, and seemed to glare at Minerva malevolently. "This is Nagini," Riddle said casually. "I think she's jealous of you." He spoke to the snake, and it hissed back before turning and slithering away. "Apparently you're 'pretty enough for me' to use her words," he chuckled. "Definitely jealous."

"I'm seriously starting to question why I like you so much," Minerva said, still watching the disappearing tail of the snake. "Clearly I'm insane, or just desperate."

"Come now, ma minette," Riddle said, pushing her against a tree and holding her in place. "Am I really that bad?"

"Of course not. Stop that-" His fingers were interlaced with her own, and he held them a bit above her head so she was quite immobilized.

"Why should I?"

"I'm nervous."

"Why in the world would you be nervous? It's just me."

She gripped his hands tightly, trying to force her arms down. "It just feels a bit...wrong, being out with you like this when we're guests in someone's house. Really, this is the sort of thing you read in trashy-"

"-romance novels?" Riddle interrupted, bending down so their faces weren't far apart. "Forgive me for sounding like the girlfriend in this relationship, but we need to talk, and get something settled here."

"You're hurting me." She kept her tone insolent even as she winced. Riddle's grip on her fingers had become crushing rather than reassuring.

Riddle flung her hands away. "What's the matter with you?"

Minerva's eyes widened at the sudden roughness. "What do you mean?"

"It's always 'stop it, Tom. People can see us, Tom. It feels wrong to be with you, Tom. But Tom, let's make out and see one another nonstop whenever I feel like it, darling, because obviously anything I initiate is okay. Oh dear.. that was a terrible imitation of you." He frowned, and seemed to shake himself before regaining his anger. Riddle seized her shoulders in a white knuckled grip, his eyes flashing scarlett. "Do you honestly want to be with me? Tell me."

Minerva knew she shouldn't laugh, but the way he constantly voiced his every tangential thought was truly amusing. She tried to fight it, but gave up and giggled. She surprised herself when she realized she wasn't afraid in the slightest even as Tom's face grew exponentially more pissed off. More than anything else, she felt as though the moment was surreal, and she was watching a pale version of herself, pinned against a tree by a maddened Tom in the dark atrium, the room devoid of light, her face vaguely worried. Even her voice sounded foreign to her when she spoke. "Of course I do. Why can't you understand that I'm conflicted about this?"

"Conflicted!" Riddle laughed derisively, letting go of her with some violence. "Oh, Minerva, why do you insist on lying to me? It's not a complicated thing."

"Tom, I-" Her initial reaction would be to say 'I love you' or some such confession, but it was terrifically cliche and it wasn't true- yet, anyway. "I have a lot of things on my mind, and as a result I'm conflicted." It was the most oblique reference she could make to her two disjointed assignments without telling him of them explicitly or even hinting at them.

His back had been to her, but he turned suddenly, gathering her up to him. "Do you want to be with me or not? Is that the source of all this random hesitancy to be seen with me like this? We're among friends, after all, not students."

"Of course I do, but-"

"Then what's the problem? Do I embarrass you?"

She tried to laugh. "Yes, but that's not why I'm hesitant. I don't like the idea of Albus-" She stopped speaking having realized her mistake as he cupped her cheek, eyes boring into hers intently. Frantically, she tried to empty her mind, and found herself regretting cutting class years ago on the day they had learned Occlumency. She wasn't sure how much she'd been able to conceal.

Riddle sighed, raising a hand to his face and letting go of her. "How willing are you to give what I'm doing a fair trial?"

Something about his behaviour, be it the sudden lack of fire in his voice or the obvious reigned in violence in his touch frightened her where his temper had failed to. She always felt she could be callously flippant with him, operating under the assumption that his feelings were impervious to mortal jibes. Now, she was worried by his pensive silence, and his curiously distant feel. Perhaps a combination of these factors prompted her to go to him, turning his face towards hers, and kiss him repeatedly, assuring him she'd be more than generous in her judgement. "Please, darling, forgive me." She wasn't sure why she was apologizing, nor what she was apologizing for.

Riddle smirked inwardly. "I was never mad at you, ma minette." He laughed. "The honeymoon's over, I suppose. We'll be at one anothers' throats more often now, I'll venture."

"Tom, hypothetically, of course- what would you have done if I had said no, I don't want to see you again?" She felt unreasonable alarm rise when his face darkened. "Hypothetically, darling. I wouldn't dream of it."

"Why, I'd very likely go on a murdering spree, my rage untempered by your angelic presence," Riddle said quite honestly. The lovely thing about the truth in these situations was that it was so ridiculous, it would never be believed as such.

She laughed, relieved. "Really, now, be serious."

"Oh, but I am."

"You're a mess."

"You lost the bet."

She frowned. "So I have." She glanced in the direction of the exit. "Shouldn't we be getting back, though? I'm not in favor of this here and now."

"Ah, so by deconstruction you would, be elsewhere and later." Riddle ignored her, untying the ribbons on the sides of her dress. "As if they don't know about you and I."

She stopped his hands. "Not appropriate."

"Not caring."

"Not...willing."

"Not convinced."

"Not relevant," she said. "The fact that I said 'no' makes any contact technically unwanted, and prolonged unwanted contact is technically rape in a court of law." She smiled smugly. "What now?"

"This," he replied, and kissed her. "And this," he added, kissing her again, "and this," he concluded softly, kissing her a third time.

She smiled, eyes closed. "Couldn't wait after all, could you," she murmured, looking up at him through half lidded eyes.

"I can wait indefinitely."

"I for one can't," she replied. "Let's head back to Hogwarts; it's late and a school night."

They thanked Cygnus and Druella, Minerva kissing Bella goodbye and insisting Riddle do the same. It was quite hilarious to see him brush his lips against the baby's rosy cheek, loathing in his eyes as he looked at Minerva, who stood with Druella smiling maddeningly. They Disapparated together, arriving back at Hogwarts around nine. It was only a matter of moments before they were in her room, Minerva changing into a nightdress behind the screen in the corner, Riddle shamelessly examining the contents of her desk. When she asked him about it, he shrugged. "You obviously went through my things," he insisted, "So I'm justified," and he refused to elaborate further. "By the way," he added, "I enjoyed you in tartan very much."

"Did you, now?" she asked, worming into bed. "An excuse to wear it more often. Oh, and we should really stop making a habit of sleeping in one anothers' rooms...it's conducive to gossip, you know."

"You aren't doing anything wrong," Riddle pointed out, settling next to her on the bed and massaging her scalp after brushing out her hair. "You make it sound as though we're sleeping together."

"True, but the staff and children don't know that," she replied, eyes falling shut.

"You worry too much about appearances."

"I can't help it," she murmured drowsily. "So I plan to become a regular at Death Muncher meetings, you know."

"Eater," he corrected. "And I'm glad to hear it. Intrigued after all?"

"Reasonably," she said, resting her head on his chest. She felt his hand at the small of her back. "I didn't give you permission to stop with the hair. Keep your hands where I want them."

Riddle laughed, and deliberately ran his fingers along the curves in her spine. "I don't take orders from you. And I punish insubordination very sharply."

"It seems we have reached an impasse," she muttered.

"Go to sleep."

"Why don't you, too?"

"Sleep is for mortals."

"Careful, though," she pointed out before nodding off. "You'll lose your good looks as soon as you gain your immortality. 'Night, dearest."

Riddle leaned against the pillows. "At least she didn't use my shoulder as a pillow this time," he mused aloud.

A/N: Ahahaha. So Bellatrix liked Voldy even when she was under a year old. Anehwae, you know you're too invested in fanfiction when you start talking like Voldy randomly at school, and decide anyone who can't flirt like him is a loser. XD I'm extremely busy at the present, so weekend updates are my best bet right now. Know what motivates me to write and update sooner? Reviews. ;) Get on that if you want to find out what happens next.

Voldy: Pushy little brat, aren't you?

me: Shut up and go snog McGonagall some more.

Haha. Review please! :D