Bellatrix gave him an exceedingly smug look, knowing full well that the boy feared her more than anything else. Fear was always a valuable tool, but she was started to see that it did have certain limitations. After all, she herself had never feared the Dark Lord (well, not to the point that she would admit it, and not to the extent of most), and she had been by far the most loyal of his followers. Perhaps her time in Azkaban had clouded her mind even more than she wanted to realize - her time in the dungeons at her husband's outrage had been sobering to say the least.
"Yes, perhaps just a few more nudges in the right direction," she said before ducking her head into her glass again. The firewhiskey was finally beginning to warm her aching bones and calm the chills that shuddered through her body despite her fever.
"Do you?" she asked, turning her head in interest. Her husband did always come up with rather worthy tests. "I'd rather her not kill this one just yet, although by the sound of it, they're quite taken with one another. Also valuable knowledge." She shrugged. "Besides, her first husband was some pathetic Gryffindor, was he not?"
She made a mental note to send off an owl to Miles later, and see just why he hadn't informed her of his wife's progress.
Bellatrix finally laid down her empty glass as her husband stood. She felt weary, and she knew that her earlier actions had drained her. No matter, she would be well soon enough. Rodolphus moved to her, and she felt him palm her chin, and she finally opened her eyes to look at him. "Perhaps I shall sleep," she conceded, knowing that she would soon whether she wanted to or not.