The people still in the streets of Hogsmeade, whether returning to their homes or scurrying to their next firewhisky gave him wide berth as he strolled almost casually down the street, the braver ones stopping once he'd bypassed them, to give the regal man in dark robes another, longer glance. For some this would be the only time they would ever see him up close and not have to fear for their well being, and honestly, he couldn't blame them for wanting to get a look. He was used to all eyes being on him, for one reason or another, and rarely paid the stares or whispers very much mind anymore. He was amused though, at the sight of people walking as briskly as could still be seen as casual from the Hog's Head, and knew without even having opened the doors that his most faithful servant had arrived ahead of him, and, as she was prone, ahead of schedule. He moved past another curious group of onlookers, knowing that their whispered conversation was full of questions, and worry, all wondering just what the Dark Lord and his Bellatrix were doing in Hogsmeade at this late hour. The matter at hand was a delicate one, as it involved sensitive information he had carried back in time with him, information that involved a portal inside the pub that led into the school, into the Room of Requirement, where in one of it's many various rooms, a piece of his soul still lay undisturbed. There were more out there, many more now, but each piece of his being was just as precious to him as the last, and he couldn't risk anyone happening upon it by accident. There was also the matter of students and residents of Hogsmeade sneaking into the school through this portal, undetected by both wards and his Death Eaters, and that simply was not going to continue now that he knew about it. The only one he truly trusted with a thing as important as this was to him sat just beyond the doors of the pub he had entered only a moment ago. She was the only one who had never failed him, and the only one whose judgment he rarely ever questioned.
Sweeping inside, he knew that no one would come to the table they occupied willingly, and he worried not that their conversation would be overheard by anyone who had enough courage to remain once he had stepped through the doors, and most, scurrying quietly past him, did not. "Bellatrix," he greeted, giving her a small incline of his head and motioned for her not to rise before taking his own seat just across from her, eyes immediately meeting hers. "Shall we attend to your business before we begin the task of the night?"