"I don't know," Voldemort replied, still amused although now at Bella and not the owl, "was I?" He rose from the desk and approached her slowly, a predatory gleam in his eyes. "You seem to think so. Did you think I was sending...uh, hints as you would call it, solely for the benefit of you?"

He was now a metre away from her, and he began to circle her, looking her up and down. She looked very nice, and although thin, she was contented. He decided to play with her mind and emotions a bit.

"I might have gotten a new woman," he murmured in her ear, now behind her. He tucked a piece of hair gently behind it. "I might have no need for you now." 

"Yes," Voldemort straightened up, looking pleased. "Yes you are." He moved away from her, striding away as quickly as he had approached her, and then sat himself behind Lucius's mahogany desk once more. He took in her rosy cheeks. "You please me, Bella. I now know you have not turned into a worthless harlot." He gestured to the seat in front of the desk. "Come, sit. We have much to discuss. I take it you did not have a pleasant experience in Azkaban?" A stupid question, really, but he needed some sort of opening for their conversation.

((I'm going to bed now, Fizzbutt. <3 Nighty!)) 

((Night <3

And read this. http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4534995/1/The_Annual_Death_Eater_Beach_Trip It was amayzing.))

Bellatrix, relieved, didn't even flinch at his blunt honesty. Stepping easily over to the chair, she happily sat, slightly tensed but much better than she had just been. Sighing slightly, her eyes wandered over the desk. "Not... no, my lord. It was neccessary, though, milord, I knew I you would return," her eyes glittered and she looked back up to him with a smile. Comfort, for the first time in years, was causing her to glow inside. The chair was made of candy floss, the food she had eaten had been made by the best, and the man before her was the most attractive, nicest, and more courteous man in the world. Her eyes were a bit distant.

((omg the first chappie was amazin'. .__.))

""Of course," Voldemort replied absently. He was studying her face hard. "You seem to not be yourself. And so I find it prudent to inform you of a change in our circumstances." He sighed, and cast his eyes over the room, before turning them back to her.

"You have been away for many years, Bella, and you are not the same woman who left me. You have the same name, and the same mind...but you are not the same. The woman I was involved with those years ago is not here." He took her arm, and examined the thin flesh and bone.

"You are Bellatrix Lestrange, Azkaban escapee, not Bellatrix Lestrange, consort of the Dark Lord. I wish to remedy this. Would you be amiable to a few torture sessions? I'm sure your psychotic mind will reawaken itself, and we will be back on the right track. For you see, Bella, because you are not the Bellatrix I associated myself with, you lose certain privileges."

((Iknowright. o_o It actually has a plot, too. A confusing, hilarious one, but a plot.))

The warm feeling in Bella's chest seemed to drop into a cold pit. Perhaps she was getting a little too comfortable... Snapping to attention, worry made her heart pitter. "I see, my lord." she spoke slowly. She didn't see. Well, literally, she did see, but she didn't 'see' what he was talking about... whoever invented the whole seeing words thing must've been a git. She did see. She didn't understand. What kind of priveleges? She couldn't have changed much. Sure, she had lost weight and could do with a while of recovery, but... Her shoes clacked together, feet moving restlessly. She resisted the urge to whine.

Of course, she wasn't the kind of person to say no to torturing a good few Muggles or Mudbloods, and so this passed over well with her. It'd been a long time since anything that fun had happened. The years in Azkaban had worn down on her. I need a drink. Eyes searching the table in a way she seemed to think was subtle, she cursed under her breath when it was clear she would need to wait until she left.

Bellatrix took the heavy goblet and glanced into it warily. Water. Her grimace was mostly internal, barely noticeable amongst the slight blush coloring her cheeks. Listening carefully and with respect, she took a sip. His question was slightly unexpected; the goblet slipped a bit in her hand. Although he wasn't looking at her, she was certainly looking at him, and the surge of excitement that Voldemorts words inspired caused a mixture of eagerness and self-satisfied joy to play over her face. "Kill it, milord. Slowly, milord, I still have my dagger and cruciatus, milord, I know, I remember how, milord!" the words tumbled quickly from her mouth, and if the goblet had been glass, it would surely have broken. She thought surely he could hear her heart hammering. The urge to laugh was overwhelming.

"Wrong," Voldemort said softly. He closed the book with a soft 'thud' and placed it back into the bookshelf, before turning and facing her. "I remember you...eager girl, you were, and you were always thinking of creative ways to torture. A knife here, and a curse there would not have satisfied you. I remember you begging to let me take you to the Muggle world, to the museums and the ancient castles with the torture devices, just so you could replicate them."

He moved closer, and there was a remorseful look on his face. "You see, Bella...you are not likeyour old self. Which is why I cannot be with you at this time. You will prove yourself to me, and then you will regain your privileges." The last sentence was spoken as an order. He walked away and sat back at the desk. "Now, Bella, I suggest if you want to be spending more time with me, you'd better leave and start improving." 

Bellatrix was crestfallen. On top of that, she was being told she was no longer who she was, which was utterly confusing and unnerving. Flashes of long-ago memories crossed her mind, long tables with nasty-looking clamps and chains hanging from the ceiling; he was right. I'm not the same. I will prove myself. Determination and desperation burned through her body, and the instant he had finished his sentance she was gone with a faint crack.

Appearing swiftly at Narcissa's side, Bellatrix wasted no time in hissing low sentances at her sister. "Cissy! You haven't installed dungeons since I left, 'ave you? I need space. Is it too risky to go into the Muggle world now? Do you have any chains, or worthless people?" Narcissa gave a start and whipped around to face Bellatrix once she realized who it was. "Bellatrix, what on earth are you going on about?" she had adopted the same whispery tone. "And no, I don't have any 'worthless people' unless you count a few of these guests." She made a hand motion that indicated the Death Eaters. It was true that some of the members were a little shady. Like Severus. Blech. "I need books, Narcissa. People. Space. The Dark Lord is waiting."

With those few magic words, the sense of urgency seemed to spread over to Narcissa, and she immediately listed off instructions about where to go without question.  "You can find some books in Lucius's bookcase, the door is usually locked for Draco but I'll get Lucius to fix that. I can't give you any of my family, Bella, unless this isn't what it sounds like, and they won't be hurt," (Bellatrix smiled sheepishly),"but I'm sure you can find someone somewhere or at least use a doll or something. Go downstairs to the lowest floor, it's got a few cobwebs that you'll need to clear out, but it'll work I hope... Be careful, Bella, won't you?" Although it sounded like a rather sweet thing to say, Bellatrix was sure she meant "be careful not to piss off the Dark Lord enough to hurt Draco or Lucius, won't you?" Either way, Bella set off to prove herself without explaining.

After Bella's abrupt departure, Voldemort sat back in his chair with a weary look on his face. It hadn't gone as much to plan as he'd hoped, but it would do. He hoped that soon, he would have his Bella back.

In the meanwhile, though, she was very unstable, and she needed to be watched. Being as busy as he was, he could not do it himself, and appointing a House Elf for the job was a laughable notion. Instead, he conjured up a special book of his and turned a few pages.

Finding the one he wanted, he pressed the tip of his wand to the name 'Rowling, Antoine'. He knew that the man in question would be doubled over in pain from his arm now. It was a nifty little charm he'd invented. This book had the name of every single Death Eater in his service, and was magically linked to their Dark Marks. It was warded with blood wards, meaning that only people with his blood could open it. Seeing as he had no children, brothers or sisters or any other relatives that were alive, it was relatively safe, so there was no chance of it falling into the wrong hands.

There was a crack, and Antoine appeared. Voldemort mused absently that he seemed to be asking for this man a lot, and wondered what it could mean. Maybe it was just coincidence, but either way, he'd get the job done.

"Antoine," Voldemort rasped softly. The man in frnot of him quickly bent to one knee and kept his eyes on the ground.

"My Lord."

"I have a task for you, Rowling." Voldemort got straight to business. "I'd like you to keep an eye on Bellatrix Lestrange. Make sure she poses no harm to herself or anyone else, and that she is keeping herself amused away from the others. Notify me of any strange occurrences, and do not tell anyone of this."

The man merely nodded.

"You are dismissed."

The man left.

The good thing about Rowling was that he was a clever man of little words. He did things without asking questions, and he was most certainly capable of tailing Bellatrix.

Voldemort turned to other business. 

((IAMSOSORRYHOMG. If school was a person you don't even want to know (actually knowing you prolly you would) but yeah.

So.

Posting. I did on the Manor one. lD And I owe you one here.))

The basement was dark, stony, cold, and gray. It's missing something... Bellatrix shuddered. Dementors would complete the gloomy Azkaban theme... Every shadow caused her wand to whip out, her eyes to fly open wide. Though the basement wasn't exactly perfect, the other rewards she'd reaped were close to it; three books, all on Muggle torture methods and a spell to conjure a rather realistic dummy. Transfiguration would do for the other materials, as Bella had never been too fantastic with conjuring spells. Or in prime condition to spend all her energy.

She sighed. "Lumos." Within minutes, choice tables were set up, candles were lighting the room into a steady glow, and the moss and mice were cleared up. Maybe it was just her, but... all together, it was rather romantic. Pleased with herself, Bellatrix decided it was best to enjoy it before she got into anything too active; burying into the books with a distracted air, she laid down on The Rack, feet swishing through the air silently. It was surprisingly... comfortable.

((Oh, ok. :) And that's fine. <3))

Voldemort, being the smart man that he was, had cast a spell on Rowling before he had left, one that enabled him to see through the other man's eyes through a small, screen like...vortex, he supposed, that floated in the air in front of him.

He watched from the man's point of view as he walked down flights of stairs, to reach the basement. He slipped through the doorway and watched Bellatrix as she lay on the Rack in a room lit by candles and filled with torture equipment. Voldemort wondered briefly why Bellatrix hadn't seen Antoine, but realised that the man must be Disillusioned. Smart.

Bellatrix began reading, and Voldemort's tongue unconciously flicked out to lick his dry lips. She looked rather alluring like that. Remembering that the person whose eyes he was looking through was also a man, he furiously tried Legilimency on him. He didn't know if it would work, but surprisingly it did, and thankfully, he could see no thoughts of lust clouding the man's mind. Thank goodness for him.

Voldemort kept watching Bella. 

((Goddamn, I hate myself. I lost a post to copy and paste. </33 WHY DOESNT IT HAVE COPY HISTORY HHNNNNNGGGH))

 Bellatrix had read the same line four times. Finally abandoning all hope of finishing, the page, she turned to the side; she couldn't shake the creepy feeling that she was being watched, although there was no reason for anyone to be there... It wasn't like she was the most interesting thing going on at the moment. A crash from upstairs proved her point. Obviously the Death Eaters were still celebrating... She sighed and half-sat up. I wouldn't mind a firewhisky, myself... Glancing around at nothing, she decided it would be best to be sure. Even if it was just to break the smooth silence. 

"Hello?"

Her voice was barely a whisper. "Is anyone there? ...I'm warning you, I have my wand..." Talking to yourself... So much for recovery. Sighing and sliding off the torture device, Bellatrix made her way to the stairs... The feeling was probably just Azkaban paranoia. With a final, rather long glance to the room she had come to enjoy, she decided that was enough work for an hour and that the party wouldn't last forever. She didn't bother to blow out the candles.

Antoine Rowling followed Bellatrix stealthily, and with the man came Voldemort. He was truly impressed at the Death Eater's stalking capabilities. He pitied the man who got on his bad side.

As they followed the woman to where the celebrations were still being held, Voldemort held his breath as he watched her hips sway. Dammit. How the hell had she managed to regain her swagger so fast? It was doing things to him that really shouldn't be done. 

Well, if she kept tempting him, he might have to pay her a visit later.

They arrived in the ballroom, where people were dancing, drinking and generally having a good time. There were several people in a corner, and upon closer examination, were torturing some Muggles. Rowling stayed away from that place, feeling disgusted at the demeaning behaviour, and Voldemort had to agree. The Death Eaters were being rather immature in the way they taunted the Muggles.

Deciding that he'd rather be there as himself, he Banished the screen with a sweep of his hand and stood up. A grand entrance would be wonderful. 

The doors banged open, and the room turned quiet. Taking advantage of the stunned silence, Voldemort strode in, impeccable black robes smoothed out and eyes gleaming. He looked around the room, and gave Bellatrix a curious look, as if he hadn't just been watching her read, had found her incredibly appealing and had wanted to see her himself. There was no way to explain this. He'd only been away from her for a couple of hours!

"Are you having fun, my servants?" he hissed softly, but the whisper was heard all around the room. They knew better than to reply, and the noise gradually became louder, Death Eaters bowing to him as he moved passed them. He strode to the drinks table.

"Bella," he said, nodding to the woman, "I hadn't expected you to join the celebrations so soon." 

Bellatrix returned the curious look with a blank one, before realizing what she had been assigned to do. She cringed and threw down the rest of the drink. As he approached, she shifted nervously, not sure what the outcome of this conversation would be... Guilt was flooding her system and flushing her face. It wasn't like she had done nothing. "I... ah..." Her eyes wandered the floor, which had become extremely interesting. The slight blush could be blamed on the alcohol. "Milord, I was just... I set up a dungeon, milord, I did, and it's all ready, milord, I just... er..." Her lips were suddenly clumsy, and she herself wasn't sure what they were trying to say. 

"Good, good..." Voldemort murmured. He filled a glass with wine, and took the tiniest sip, to see if he could handle it...but it seemed to burn right through his tongue. He bit on it painfully, to stop the agony, as it seemed to be on fire. Outwardly, there was no sign of his discomfort except for the first wince and the fact that he didn't say much else. 

After the pain had somewhat diminished, he thought it would be ok to talk again. "You will be putting it to good use soon, I hope?"