A / N : Sorry for the delay in updating. Once again, I had huge problems writing this one down, even though I knew exactly what I wanted to happen. My mind just stalled every time I opened up the document, and I don't know why. I scrapped the whole thing and started over twice, so please let me know if it shows. This chapter had me driven to distraction. Utter distraction. *shakes head*

Chapter title is from the song by Abba. (Yes, I was cheering myself up in my titling of this one. It involved vast quantites of Abba, for some reason. But it sort of worked. LOL.)

Knowing Me, Knowing You

"Miss Black? Come in."

Bellatrix took a deep breath and stepped into the headmaster's office, trying to calm her sudden nerves. The circular room was exactly as it had been the last time she had found herself here, with only one difference. Today the sky outside the window was black, not blue, but the curtains were still open, and in an office that was almost as high up as the Astronomy Tower, the stars were clearly visible, sparkling against a black velvet sky.

"Your curtains are open." It was a stupid statement, but the words had flown from her lips before she could stop them. Dumbledore smiled, his blue eyes twinkling.

"Ah, yes. Forgive me for that. An old man's indulgence – I like to see the stars. Please, sit down." He gestured towards one of the chairs in front of his desk, a cordial smile on his face, as though he had invited her here for a tea-party, not a punishment. Bella sank into the nearest chair, red-faced and a little disconcerted by this approach. She had been expecting a more Inquisition-like atmosphere. She stared at her shoes, determined not to be the one to break the silence first.

"Would you like a glass of water?"

Bella shook her head, fervently wishing he would just give her a punishment and let her go.

"I see." Dumbledore steepled his fingers, studying her. "In that case, I think we should proceed. Tell me – why have you come to see me?"

"I didn't come to see you," Bella retorted. "Slughorn made me come here." There was a moment's silence, during which Dumbledore surveyed her with a half-speculative, half-amused expression. "Professor," she added quickly. "Professor Slughorn brought me here." She reddened, dropping her gaze to her lap.

Bellatrix had quite a few secrets. Some of them were exciting, some of them were frightening, and some of them were just embarrassing. She still remembered her mother dragging her here, the summer before she started Hogwarts. Druella had almost begged the old man to take her daughter off her hands, and she – Bellatrix - had stood in this very office, just ten years old, and promised to be a good girl. She had relayed the same story to her master, weeks ago, and he had laughed. What she hadn't told him was that at the time, she had meant it. She had wanted to be a good girl, but somehow her good intentions had been lost over the summer. By the time she set foot in her new school, there was no doubt in her mind or anybody else's. She was a Slytherin, through and through. But some small part of her – the part that liked to mock her for every failure – still liked to remind her every now and again that once upon a time, she had liked Dumbledore. It had always been a secret source of shame to her. Preoccupied with this line of thought, she almost forgot where she was, and why. She jumped as Dumbledore spoke again.

"Why are you here?" he asked softly.

Bella swallowed. "I got into a fight with my sister," she muttered. "That's all."

"A fight," Dumbledore repeated. "I see." There was silence for a beat, and eventually Bella realized she was going to have to elaborate.

She took a deep breath. "I lost my temper," she said stiffly, "and I attacked my sister." It sounded so much worse, out loud.

"I see."

"It wasn't completely my fault," Bella protested. She didn't like the sound of that 'I see'. Was he disapproving? Disbelieving? It was hard to tell. "I was trying to help her," she insisted. "She . . . I . . the situation just . . . escalated. I wasn't trying to hurt her. I really wasn't."

Don't look him in the eye. That was what Lucius had said. But the thing about avoiding eye-contact was that it made it hard to seem convincingly remorseful. Wide-eyed innocence was also impossible to pull off when you were staring at your shoes.

"Do you think you hurt her?" Surprisingly, Bella couldn't detect any judgement in his voice. Just concern.

She shook her head. "No. I frightened her. It's not the same thing." And it wasn't. Not to Bella, anyway. "She needed to be scared. Sometimes that's the best thing for people. A shock."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Was your sister suffering from hiccups?"

Bella blinked. "What?" She was so confused by this that she momentarily forgot to avoid Dumbledore's eye. She looked up to find him regarding her with one silvery eyebrow quirked.

"Hiccups," he explained. "A sharp shock is apparently quite an effective remedy for hiccups. Or, of course, you could try asking her to drink water from the wrong side of a glass."

"Which do you use?" Bella asked, momentarily distracted.

"Neither. I stand upon my head."

Bella stared. "I . . . er . . . my sister . . my sister didn't have hiccups," she managed at last.

Dumbledore smiled. "I suspected as much," he said lightly. "Which leads me to the question of why you felt she required a shock."

Bella fixed her gaze on one of the portraits behind Dumbledore's head. "That's private," she said. She hadn't quite succeeded in keeping the cold note out of her voice, so she decided she might as well push it. "Can I go? I'm tired."

"Not just yet, Miss Black. You attacked your sister. I appreciate the delicacy of the situation, I assure you. However, you must understand that your behaviour, in this instance, was extreme. In fact, it has grown progressively worse over the past few years." He raised his wand and waved it once. A sheaf of paper, bound in brown leather, appeared in front of him and floated down to rest neatly upon his desk. He unknotted the red string around it and pulled out a few pieces of parchment at random. "I have here a number of complaints against you, Miss Black. Teachers, complaining of your insolence, students, accusing you of assault-"

"Who accused me of assault?!" Bella demanded, furious. Dumbledore continued as though he hadn't heard this.

" - a number of unexplained absences from school - and I have reason to suspect you recently assaulted a member of staff. Tell me, Miss Black . . . . if you were in my shoes, faced with rather disturbing evidence . . . . .what would you do?"

Bella swallowed. The blood was rushing in her eardrums now, and the room seemed to be spinning out of focus. She felt trapped. At last, she heard her own voice, unnaturally high and brittle-sounding.

"You – you can't expell me." She gripped the arms of the chair more tightly, pressing the soles of her shoes into the floor, to steady herself. "My father's on the board of governors," she insisted. "He'd have your head!"

Her face was flaming now, but she was determined not to look at Dumbledore. Her gaze wandered instead to the portrait of Phineas Nigellus, the school's only Slytherin headmaster, who was regarding her with one eyebrow raised in sardonic disbelief. Silently vowing to return another day with some paint-stripper and wipe the smirk off his face, Bella scowled.

"Bellatrix." She jumped, as unnerved by Dumbledore's sudden use of her first name as she was by his gentle tone. "Bellatrix. Listen to me."

The old man strode out from behind his desk and crouched down in front of her. She flinched as he touched a finger gently to her chin, trying to tilt her head up, to see her face. She set her jaw and continued to avoid his eye, despite the fact that her heart was pounding and she was beginning to shake, the usual symptoms of anger. But this wasn't anger. Or at least, not entirely anger. She felt helpless and humiliated. He was going to expell her, and then what would become of her? She would leave school without any NEWTs, widely presumed to be an idiot, and would probably end up married to some imbecile, trapped in the life she had tried so hard to avoid. And her master would think she was stupid too, expelled just a month before the exams, not worth his time . . .

"I am trying to help you," Dumbledore said softly. "Believe it or not. But in order for me to do that, you have to help me too. Do you understand?"

Bella shut her eyes. "No. I don't."

Dumbledore sighed. "Listen to me," he repeated. "I don't wish to punish you, Miss Black. But your behaviour is extreme, and I can't allow you to harm the staff or students of this school. You must see that."

"I haven't hurt anyone!" Bella said obstinantly. " And I'm not a child! Stop talking to me as if I am!"

Another sigh. "Forgive me." The apology didn't sound very sincere to Bella, but she was past the point of rational thinking by now. Frightened and furious, she had honestly never hated the old man as much as she did now. Her thoughts were no longer making any sense, but that was nothing new. It happened, sometimes, when she was angry or upset. It was a loss of control that she had never been able to prevent and that made it all the more unfair, in her opinion. How could he expell her for something she had no control over? She didn't think clearly when she was upset, so how could she be held accountable for the things she did?

"Shall I tell you something I've learnt over the years, Miss Black?"

Bella looked up apprehensively. He was still watching her closely, a keen, sharp concern in his eyes. Slowly, she nodded.

"Extreme behaviour," the old man said quietly, "is often a cry for attention."

Bella scowled, "I'm not a child," she interrupted, affronted. "I don't need attention."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, but the pity in his voice shone through more clearly than ever as he continued. "There's no shame in that," he said softly. "In my experience, Miss Black, people rarely seek attention if they don't feel – for whatever reason – that they need it."

She stared at him, stunned, as the truth of his words sank in. She saw Lucius, polishing his silver badge at every opportunity, ridiculously infatuated with his own status as Head Boy. Narcissa, skin and bones and little else, fighting so hard for the right to starve herself. And Bella herself, euphoric at the chance to prove herself, light-headed at the feel of cold hands on her throat . . . . She swallowed. Dumbledore was frowning at her now, looking more grave than ever. Panic flooded through her. Had he seen the things she'd seen?

He gave no indication of it. "I won't expell you," he said seriously, to her overwhelming relief. "But I cannot condone your behaviour. You will serve one detention, every day, until the end of the year."

Thirty detentions. That had to be some kind of record. But at least she wasn't being expelled. "With who?" she asked carefully, trying to sound both grateful and contrite. Unfortunately, contrition had never been something Bellatrix was particularly adept at expressing.

"You will serve your detention with a different member of staff every day," the headmaster said solemnly, "and once a week you will have an additional detention with me. I will, of course, also be obliged to write to your parents."

Bella nodded, not even bothering to entertain the notion that her parents would care. Her father thought Dumbledore was a Muggle-loving old fool who took a soft approach to discipline, and her mother agreed with whatever her father said. As long as she could convince Cygnus that Dumbledore had shown sufficient disregard for the Black family, she could prevent him from agreeing with the Headmaster. And the idea that Dumbledore would have expelled a Black girl, and the daughter of one of the school governors . . . . well, that alone would provide enough offense to keep her father on her side for once. This smug train of thought derailed itself unexpectedly as a far less welcome realization struck her.

"I have my NEWTs at the end of the month," she said slowly. "When am I supposed to study for them?"

Dumbledore merely smiled, his blue eyes twinkling in a way that seemed altogether too self-satisfied for Bellatrix's liking. "Think of it as an opportunity to re-examine your priorities, Miss Black. Now . . . I believe you wished to leave?"

Effectively dismissed, Bella left, hideously aware of the fact that she had just been out-manouevered by Dumbledore. She wandered back to the Slytherin common room in a sort of daze. The mere thought of the month ahead exhausted her. How was she supposed to juggle her approaching exams with her attempts to prove herself to her master, her determination to scare some sense into Narcissa, and multiple detentions? And she still had essays to complete for all the teachers who had taken her disappearing act with Lucius as a personal insult . . . . her head hurt just thinking about it.

She dropped into an armchair in the empty common room, feeling irritated and a little annoyed at the absence of anything she could take her frustration out on. There was a set of Gobstones scattered across the floor, and a Herbology book belonging to someone with the last name Prince, but kicking some of the Gobstones and tossing the book into the fire didn't do much for her temper. Where the hell was Lucius? It was getting late, surely he ought to be back soon? Unless, of course, his father actually was sick. The image of the old man at death's door amused her a little, though not nearly enough. She settled back into the armchair and allowed her eyelids to drift shut as the hours ticked by. She wasn't aware of falling asleep, but she woke with a start as someone tugged at her sleeve.

"Bella. Bella, wake up."

It was Narcissa. Bella sat up, frowning. "What are you doing?" she asked suspiciously. Her sister's cheeks were oddly pink, and she seemed out of breath.

"Nothing," Cissy stammered. "I was just . . . walking."

Bella shrugged. She was tired, and didn't particularly care to learn the cause of her sister's embarrassment. Cissy was the sort of person who blushed when people began arguing next to her. It probably didn't matter. She frowned, surprised, as Narcissa sat down beside her.

"What happened, Bella?" her sister asked in a small voice.

Bellatrix sighed. "Nothing," she answered, throwing Cissy's own answer back at her. "I have detention until the end of the year. That's all."

Her sister's eyes widened. "But . . . . you have exams," she said uncertainly.

"I know."

There was a moment of silence. "What about me?" Cissy asked at last. "Do I have to do the detentions as well?"

Bella gave a contemptuous snort. "I doubt it. Your appointed disciplinerian is Slughorn. He'll probably just throw some chrystallized pineapple at you and send you on your way with an invitation to RSVP for the Slug Club next year."

Cissy stiffened. "I'll ask to do the detentions too," she insisted. "It was my fault we fought in the first place, I should be punished too."

"Don't be stupid," Bella snapped. Her sister could be so dense sometimes. There was a moment of awkward silence.

And then Cissy did something that surprised Bellatrix even more than volunteering for unnecessary detention. She wrapped her arms around her sister's waist and hugged her tightly. "I'm really sorry," she mumbled. And suddenly Bella was reminded of the thing she had always secretly liked the most about Narcissa. She loved her, in her own silly, childish way.

So Bella tolerated the hug, even though she didn't hug her sister back. "Okay, okay!" she said at last. "You're sorry. I get it. Don't go crazy about it. It's not as if I disowned you or anything . . ."

But she felt curiously alone when Cissy pulled away obediently and turned to traipse up to bed. So she seized her sister's skinny wrist, a sudden thought flashing through her mind.

"Hey, wait."

Cissy stared at her, perplexed. "What?" she asked nervously.

Bella took a deep breath. People don't seek attention unless they feel they need it. "Why don't you eat anymore?" she blurted out. It was an ill-phrased question, and one she already half-knew the answer to, but she felt she should ask, somehow.

Narcissa flinched. "I do eat. I don't have a problem, Bella. I just don't eat a lot," she said stiffly.

Oh not this again . . . Composing herself with an effort, Bella smiled. "Right. Of course. You do eat. You don't have a problem." The little girl frowned, apparently bewildered by this approach, and Bella decided to strike while the iron was hot. "Just humour me."

Still bewildered, Cissy nodded.

"Good," Bella said, trying to soften her voice. Apparently it was working – Narcissa no longer looked as though she were preparing to fight another round, though apprehension was clear on her face. Before she had a chance to change her mind, Bella ploughed ahead with another question.

"You don't have a problem," she said slowly. "Okay. I believe you. But will you answer a question for me?" Cissy nodded again, and she continued. "Why did you fight me? If you don't have a problem, if you're right and I'm wrong and what you're doing is completely normal. . . ." She frowned. "Why fight me? Why get so upset?"

Narcissa opened her mouth, and then closed it again, apparently unable to think of a response. She frowned at the floor, looking troubled and confused. And Bella knew that for the first time, something she'd done had had an effect. Cissy couldn't give her an answer, which meant that part of her must know what she was doing was wrong, whether she wanted to admit it or not. Bella wrapped her cloak around her, shivering a little. It was always so cold, down here.

"Go to bed, Cissy," she said softly. "You look tired."

Her sister nodded, pale and troubled-looking. Bella watched her stumble up the stairs to her dormitory, and she sighed, running a hand over her face. She scooped up a handful of Gobstones and tossed one into the fire, yawning as it exploded in a shower of sparks. She was just about to go to bed herself when the stone wall slid back a second time, and a familiar figure stepped into the common room.

"Well it's about time!"

Lucius arched an eyebrow. "You waited for me all this time?" he asked, amused.

Bella scowled. "Don't flatter yourself, Malfoy. I got sent to Dumbledore, remember? And then I had to talk to Narcissa."

"Oh, of course." He frowned at her. "What happened?"

Bella kicked the chair opposite her. "Sit down," she said irritably, "and I'll tell you."

He sat down obediently, and Bella suppressed a snigger. At least someone in her life did what they were supposed to do. However annoying he might be, she could usually count on Lucius to obey her. And to care about what happened to her. It was a product, she supposed, of each having saved the other's life. A bond, of sorts. And as long as she was stuck in this stupid school, it wasn't entirely insufferable to have a partner in crime. Maybe this was what it felt like to have a friend. Bella wouldn't really know. She had never cared much for friends. It didn't really mean anything, when they were all either afraid of her or hoping to get something in return.

"Don't tell me Dumbledore expelled you," Lucius frowned. Bella rolled her eyes. No, she decided. Lucius wasn't quite like a friend. He was more a constant, rather irritating background presence, quite similar to Narcissa, that she had somehow found herself stuck with. Oh, she thought, I know. Like family.

Lucius, meanwhile, seemed to have taken her silence as a way of saying the unsayable. "He expelled you?" he asked, clearly shocked.

Bella grimaced. "No! He didn't expell me. But he was thinking about it. Really thinking about it."

"But he didn't actually do it?" Lucius clarified.

"No. He gave me detention instead. Every day until the end of the year."

"Ouch." Lucius grimaced in sympathy.

"I know." She sighed. "It's just . . . I don't like how close he came to actually doing it. He was honestly considering it, I could tell . . . " She shuddered. She had never come that close to losing everything before. It wasn't a nice feeling. "And I kept thinking about things I shouldn't have while I was there, and I tried not to look him in the eye, but . . . . I don't know." She shivered. "The next Hogsmeade visit's is next week, isn't it? I think I should see . . . him . . ." She was careful not to say the name out loud. You never knew who might be listening. "I have to do one detention with Dumbledore, every week," she continued. "I can't very well avoid eye contact the whole time, can I? He'll get suspicious, and that'll make things even worse . . . ." She shut her eyes and exhaled slowly. "We need to do something about it."

Lucius stared at her for a long moment, and then, slowly, he nodded. "I'll try," he said quietly. "I can't promise you anything."

"I know." Whether or not her master would agree to see her had little to do with Lucius, after all. So Lucius' agreement could mean something or nothing, really. And speaking of things which meant nothing . . . .

"By the way," she said icily, "For future reference, I don't care how desperate you are for an idea, or how concussed you are – your tongue has no place in my throat. Understood?"

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "It was a desperate situation, and I was concussed," he countered. "And you think I flatter myself," he added with a slight smirk.

Bella scowled and threw her handful of Gobstones at him. He only rolled his eyes as they bounced off his chest, and Bella was reminded of the thing she hated the most about Malfoy – the fact that nothing ever seemed to bother him. He was so emotionless. He was like a statue, in her opinion. He never seemed to care much about anything, and for someone like Bella, who felt passionately about everything, that was unbearable.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow at her expression. "Alright," he said indifferently. "In future, you can make the plans. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

"And I look forward to seeing it," he continued, a mocking edge to his voice. Bella hurled some more Gobstones at him and for a moment he looked as though he might actually crack a smile. Then he was unexpectedly serious again.

"Your little sister is terrified of me," he said, frowning.

"So?" Bella scoffed. "She's terrified of everyone. She's even terrified of me. Hey, don't look at me like that!" she protested, as he looked at her askance. "I'm not joking, you know."

"Oh, I know. It's either extremely amusing or extremely worrying."

Bella scowled at that. "Well," she said slowly, "you can't talk, can you? You look perfectly ridiculous." She gestured at him, at the thick black cloak wrapped up around his neck. "It's May. You look like a priest. What are you trying to do, mummify yourself?" She laughed, amused by her own joke. Lucius didn't. Then again, he rarely did. He was stiflingly serious, all the time. It was incredibly boring.

"Slughorn thinks we're going to elope together or something," she laughed. Lucius groaned.

"I know."

"Oh come on! Don't you find that funny? It's fun, having everyone think we're up to something scandalous. Don't you think?"

"Tedious is what it is," Lucius muttered. He yawned, inadvertently proving his point.

Bella sighed, stretching her legs. "Lucius, darling," she said dramatically, smothering the sudden urge to laugh again, "This is why it would never have worked between us. I'm sorry."

Lucius raised an eyebrow and put out a hand, pulling her gallantly to her feet. "Bellatrix – darling -" he said uncomfortably, shuddering a little - "don't give me nightmares."

Bella laughed. "That was almost funny," she said with a smile, poking him in the chest as she pulled her hand out of his. "Almost."

A / N : If anyone's wondering . . . no, your eyes do not decieve you, dear reader. That was indeed a Pirates of the Caribbean reference at the end. Jack Sparrow and Bella have a lot in common. Mainly eccentricity, endless energy and ingenuity, and debatable sanity. (Hmm . . . . they could be an interesting ship, actually. Ha.)

I hope this makes Bella's attitude to Lucius and Narcissa in "Tangled" - and her relationships with both of them - a little clearer as well, for readers of that fic. You know – quoting Rodolphus here - "She thinks that because she's known you for so long, and because Narcissa's the only member of her family left that she actually likes . . . well, she thinks she somehow owns you both. It irritates her, the idea that she can't control you." (Thanks Rodolphus. You can go now.)

Sarahwalker – Hey! Thanks for reviewing, it's always appreciated. And I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter even without the inclusion of Bellatrix. I switch viewpoints sometimes for dramatic purposes, sometimes to round out the story a little more and sometimes just on a whim. I tend to follow my instincts on things like that, but it's always great to hear that other people enjoyed the change, especially as I know a lot of my readers are more focused on Bella than the other characters who flit in and out of the story. I like the Rodolphus character a lot myself, and I enjoy playing around with foreshadowing where Lucius and Narcissa are concerned, seeing as they end up married! I find it endlessly entertaining. So entertaining I wrote a whole other fic about them, in fact . . . . but Bella and Rodolphus still end up appearing quite frequently. What can I say? I'm fond of them all, really. Thanks again for reviewing, and I hope you continue to enjoy the story! :)