Mod!Dena (despair_mod_d) wrote in despairrp, @ 2007-12-30 04:20:00 |
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Who: Bellatrix Lestrange & Clint Warrington
Where: Her office on the 2nd Floor of the Misnitry of Magic
What: Bellatrix wants to 'reward' Clint for doing his civic duty
When: a few days after the auction
Rating: PG?
Bellatrix
Clint
Bellatrix had sent her newest slave down the corridor to the Blood Purity Office, with one of her specially engraved cards. She gave her orders to deliver it to Clint Warrington quickly, then to remove herself to the holding pens, where Bellatrix would send for her when she was ready. Usually, being called into Bellatrix Lestrange's office was a cause for concern. Occasionally, however, it could be a pleasant thing.
Sitting on her desk was a small money sack. Bellatrix always rewarded those in her department who spent a significant amount to purchase mud--muggleborns by reimbursing them a small portion of the purchase price. Not too much, of course, and never to blood traitors or those who had seemed reluctant. But, it seemed a shame for young Mr. Warrington to have spend so much on a troublesome little chit like Alicia Spinnet.
It wasn't the real reason, but it was as good an excuse as any.
Clint was looking at some documents on his desk, utterly bored with the entire process. He had stood outside of Adrian's study and listened to the pair argue for nearly an hour before giving up on them completely. He still had to deliver Spinnet to Pucey and find someone for his own before the fines started rolling in. Yawning with boredom, a tentative knock interupted his thoughts and he rolled his eyes at his timid intruder.
"What?" he snapped. She handed him an elegant card and Clint raised a brow. The slave left without another word and Clint stood up, shrugging into his pinstriped wizarding robes. So Bellatrix Lestrange demanded his presence. It was, of course, not an outward demand but nobody denied Bellatrix.
Walking down the hall he headed towards her office, pausing to berate an employee for sitting idly at their desk.
He confidently strode towards her door and pushed it open with a flourish. Confidence was key. And he had more than enough for an army.
"Madam," he said, walking to her desk, taking her hand and dropping a kiss on it. "What do I owe this pleasure?"
Bellatrix smiled at Clint's audacity and confidence as he entered her office. Most people did so timidily or when they had not been given permission. She had summonded him, so he entered, and with flair. "Mr. Warrington," she replied, allowing him to greet her in a manner she found most becoming. "I was made aware that you spent a rather signifgcant amount in purchasing a slave during the last auction. Someone found to be a collaborator with those who would stand against the--current adminstration. It is my custom to---reward those members of my department who make such purchases."
Clint grinned charmingly before taking a seat across from her. He crossed his ankle over his leg and brought his fingertips together, tapping them lightly. He was relaxed and quite confident in who he was.
Raising a brow at her statement he smiled knowingly. "Please," he said, his voice low and soothing. "Call me Clint. A mere acknowledgement is more then enough from you madam."
Oh, he was a charming devil, she would give him that. He was probably accustomed to charming his way through a great many places, people and situations. "Well then, Clint," she said. She moved the small sack on her desk cloer to him. The musical jingle that eminated from it was unmistakeable.
"A small reimbursment for the considerable cost you paid for your med--slave," she said. It was a 200 galleon reimbursment, to be exact. After all, the Ministry needed money to run. "And my own---personal thanks." She leaned back in her chair, studying the young man in front of her.
Another raised brow as she pushed the sack of gold closer to him. He grinned again, meeting her gaze, leaving the money on the desk. Leaning forward, resting his elbows on his thighs he said, "I'd rather have your thanks Bella," he said, dropping her first name, rolling it seductively off his tongue.
Leaning back he watched her closely. A beautiful woman, cruel and merciless. He respected her greatly even if he didn't agree with what they were doing. But, she never needed to know that.
He WAS bold. "Only a very select few may call me that, dear Clint," she said as she rose and made her way to the front of her desk. Even her everyday 'work' robes were made of the finest satin and made to enhance her figure. Sitting on the edge of her desk would give him a rather different...view.
"I think perhaps you need to find a way to apologize to me, to--soothe my ire." Not that she was angry, and her voice certainly was not 'angry'. She was raher amused, to tell the truth. It had been a long time since anyone had now walked into this office with this kind of confidence. "Since you seem to want my...thanks."
Clint's face remained impassive as she walked towards him. Never show your weaknesses to anyone. He didn't, unlike the Gryffindor's seemingly plaguing his life, have a problem remaining aloof and unconcerned. She was quite a beautiful woman and he appreciated a comely shaped witch just like any other wizard. He entertained the notion of seducing her but was hesitant to act.
He raised a brow at her implied statement and smiled wolfishly. "Anything for you my dear."
"Anything?" She tilted her head regarding him. Why do I always have to do all the work? she wondered to herself.
"The Office of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement thanks you for your...generous contribution to our Lord's vision," she said, with an equally wolfish smile. She ran her toe along the yong man's knee. "Since you will not accept our monetry compensation, is there something else my...office...can provide you?"
The boy wanted her. It was clear...but he could also be very useful to her for actual business reasons. A hint or two to the correct people, and young Mr. Warrington could see himself rise in stature...her eyes and ears in more than one office.
Mentally pursing his lips he briefly calculated his life expectancy should she ever find out he was working both sides. Self-preservation was a key vocabulary word in any Slytherin's book. Involving himself with Bellatrix Lestrange had two distinct outcomes. One of those being death. However, there was the chance to gain an upper hand in what would soon become and all out war. He'd learn far more in her company then by skulking around chasing after Death Eaters.
Smiling again, he said, "What, madam, did you have in mind?"
You tied to a chair, was her first thought but instead she pursed her lips. "How do you like you work in the Blood Purity Office, Clint? IS it to your liking? Keep you busy enough?"
She was studying his carefully...without moving her foot, of course. It was still resting on Clint's knee.
Clint didn't so much as flinch as her foot continued to rest on his knee. He gave no indication that he found it a bit discomfitting. Smiling he thought about her question. His job was a bloody bore. "Quite emjoyable," he said. "Keeps me out of trouble." He winked.
He let his hand come down and slowly caress the top of her foot. His fingers slid softly up her trim ankle. He continued to meet her gaze.
"Did you have something specific you'd like done?"
"Perhaps...a clever young man who so enjoys his work might enjoy work in another capacity." She did not react to his hand was slowly sliding up her foot. Yet.
"I have yet to have found a suitable Undersecretary," she said. "Of course, my nephew would have been my first choice, however his unique talents are required in his current position at the Head of International Cooperation. It takes a certain...personality...to deal with the pressures of the Magical Law Enforcement Department."
Her head tilted to the side as Clint's hand wandered. "Perhaps...I woudl like you to DO something for me, Mr. Warrington."
Undersecretary to Bellatrix Lestrange. You couldn't get any closer then that. Well, one could...
Clint smiled again. "As I said before madam. I am at your service. Anything I can do you have only to ask."
He knew that no one refused Bellatrix. There wasn't a person who'd lived to do it. Clint wasn't about to make that mistake. He had plans and they involved a future. Preferably his. He quirked a brow. "What did you have in mind?"
"I had in mind perhaps speaking with your supervisor. One shoudl follow the niceities," she said...but the look in her face showed that she really didn't believe that. "In the meantime...perhaps you should show me if my future Undersecretary has what it takes. After all," she said, "anyone in certain postions must know when to take instruction...and when to work independently. Follow his instincts." She looked at him, her dark eyes almost searching his. His answers had been much too noncommital and--well--slick. What was he really m ade of, she womdered?
"I am a direct woman, Clint...I expect those who--work--under me to be the same."
Clint nodded and smiled. "Madam, I assure you that I haven't the least bit of problem voicing my own opinions," he said, gauging her wariness. "Whatever you need me to do for the Ministry and the Dark Lord, I am at your service."
He reached out and took her hand, kissing the back of it. "Anything at all."