Who: Draco and Bellatrix Where: Lestrange Manor When: After meeting Pansy at Hogsmeade What: They discuss business Rating: A little PG for some allusions to violence? I dunno. Status: Complete.
***********************
On any other occasion, Bellatrix would have worn far more opulent clothing. But the possibility of having to torture information out of her nephew necessitated her minimalist adornment, as it would hardly to do to stain fine silk or satin. Extraordinarily at ease with the potential conflict that she would surely soon be engaged in, Bella perched serenly atop the lounge, idly drumming her fingers over the sumptuous gold brocade as she awaited young Draco's arrival.
The soft slap of boot upon tile heralded Draco's arrival. He reached the door inside of which Bellatrix was holding court and proceeded to drop kick the House Elf down the hall before showing himself in to greet her. "Aunt," he said ever so smoothly, bowing and stepping forward to brush his lips against her cheek.
"Draco," The dark witch replied ever-so-sweetly, returning the faint kiss to his cheek as though there was to be no conflict between them. "Do have a seat." She gestured casually in the direction of the sofa across from her lounge. "As I trust you are already aware, we have much to discuss."
"Indeed." Sitting thus and crossing his leg, he ventured a gaze around the room. Escape routes quickly burned through his mind before he settled in and placed his hands in his lap. "I suppose the Dark Lord spoke with you."
"The Dark Lord speaks with me frequently, Draco," Bellatrix replied in the same saccharine tone, affecting an innocent expression. "I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific in your estimations if you seek to determine what we spoke of." She was hardly about to provide him with information that he did not already possess.
He shook his head. "Colour me unsurprised, then. And quite unwilling to press you for information you've not a care to give."
The barest hint of a smile crossed her features at his words, but it disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared. "Interesting that you speak of information, Draco, I too seek it from you." Her gaze was steady and unrelenting.
"About Ollivander," he stated.
"Precisely," She agreed.
"Well, as I told the Dark Lord, Ollivander died before I could bring him from Budapest. His body is still very likely mouldering in his cheap little hovel -- " Shrug. "He said that he hid an object and Dumbledore had its keeping, though it obviously isn't with him anymore."
"How is it that he died without revealing the fate of the object, Draco?" Bellatrix asked calmly, skeptical that her nephew's investigation found nothing but a dead body and yielded no clues. Life was rarely so neat and uncomplicated.
He frowned. "Already ill, I think he was on the brink of death. And then, I killed him of fright."
"Of fright, Draco?" Her tone was unabashedly skeptical. In truth, she could not think of any logical reason for deceit, but she had also been bewildered by his failure to kill Dumbledore. Her faith in him was not completely lost, but it was certainly diminished. "What did you do, charge in and pin him to the ground?"
A smirk. "Nearly, I suppose. I began with strong tactics but seeing the old man wither before me, I chose to become more quietly pliant. He gave me what he could, and died forthwith. Search my mind, if you must, Bellatrix. I'm telling you the truth."
It was a tempting offer, really - she'd taught him Occlumency, so she genuinely doubted that she wouldn't know if he was deliberately hiding something. But it was all rather moot and there was a far more certain way to determine if what he said was the whole story. "No need, Draco - We'll find out soon enough." Her eyes sparkled dangerously. "We're going to go see if his body is, in fact, there as you say."
"Are you hiding a port key beneath your skirt, Auntie?"
Bellatrix smirked. "Not today, dear - even I don't work that fast. But I assure you, we will indeed be traveling once I secure the proper transport." Her gaze was intent. "You wouldn't have a problem with that, of course?"
"Nary the slightest," he replied, quick and tart on the tip of his tongue. "It was quite the deserted old street and he seemed ever so alone. I don't know why his body wouldn't be directly where I left it -- sitting in the chair on which he died."
"Excellent," She declared, mildly disappointed that torture had not been required to elicit the desired information from the boy. She had less ill will toward her nephew than most, but a precious few held so much esteem as to be unattractive victims. "I'm certain the Dark Lord has reminded you that you are to follow me in this matter."
... and thus with his ire ever so raised, he stands and abruptly cuts his hand through the air. "I've had enough, Bellatrix. Will be going now."
In an instant, she was on her feet and her fingers had caught his wrist painfully, sharp fingernails digging cruelly into tender flesh. "I'll tell you when you've had enough, Draco," She warned icily, holding his gaze for a long moment before releasing his hand and returning to her languorous perch. "After all, it would displease the Dark Lord for a direct order to be ignored, wouldn't it?" Her sweet tone returned once she had become comfortable atop the lounge once more. "Do give your father my regards."
He ground his teeth, reaching over to massage the wrist that she so horridly abused. "Bellatrix," he hissed viciously, daring to take a step nearer to her. "If you touch me again, I swear that you will regret it."
His attempt at a threat earned him a smile. Only one man had ever frightened Bellatrix in her life, and he was not standing before her. "Do you, Draco? And what shall you do? Kill me?" A highly skeptical, decidedly amused glance. "You fail to recognize the position you're in. If you lay a hand on me, the Dark Lord will ensure that your family suffers for your impertience." The smile never faded from her lips despite the fact that she included her sister in the potential peril. "If you fail to follow my orders in this endeavour, I will not hesitate to alert my master - likely resulting in the very same agony to your loved ones in front of your very eyes."
"Fly away, little Draco," Came the sweet, condescending murmur as she folded her arms behind her head and leaned back into the lounge. "I'll call for you when I need you."
Every bone in his body ached to destroy his aunt in some vague, terrifying fashion. He desired murder. But he would not give her the satisfaction of appearing angry before her. With a winsome smile, he popped another kiss on her cheek and twirled his wand lazily in his hand. "Bye, Auntie!" he said, and silently cursed her with every atom in his body. "I will await your call!" And with a loud, dissonant crack, he Disapparated.