8

Lucius and the Shrink—Chapter 6

Severus stared pointedly at the wall beyond Dr. Tate, refusing to engage him by look or word. His foot, which he felt lifting periodically to tap impatiently, he planted even more firmly on the floor. No way in hell was that idiot psychiatrist to know he wasn't wholly at ease, lest he decide Mr. Snape needed even more of his useless and irritating sessions. Severus was perfectly capable of controlling himself in a great imitation of 'normal', thank you very much, but if the twat didn't soon stop rapping that pen, he might find himself minus a finger or two.

Dr. Tate tapped his pen on the pad of paper in front of him. To his left, Lucius lay on a divan, eyes closed, ostensibly feigning sleep to put off the inevitable beginning of the session. They'd made progress over the months…sort of…if one tried really hard not to notice that Mr. Malfoy was certifiably insane beneath his delectably handsome—er, smooth—façade. As for Snape, there wasn't enough therapy in the world to cure whatever ailed him. Even now he sat catatonic, back rigid, eyes glazed, boring a hole into the wall as he tried to appear 'normal' and 'tranquil'. Good luck on that front.

Tate cleared his throat. "I believe it's important to meet some of your co-workers. Wasn't one of your compatriots to meet you here?"

On cue, a noise in the reception room was overpowered by a deep, "Shut it, you stupid bint!" The door swung open and Rodolphus Lestrange barged in. "Lucius. Snape." His gaze fell on the doctor and his brow dipped. "That muggle workin' for you better watch her step."

"Roddy, you took your good time." Lucius sat up and motioned to a third recliner. "Have a seat."

Wrinkling his nose, Rodolphus gingerly made his way over. When the halfbreed had described the doctor's office, he'd been skeptical. "You weren't kidding, Snape, this place is horrific! What'd you do to be sentenced to such a monstrosity?"

"Less than you," drawled Severus. And yet he was the one in therapy. How fair was that? Then again, life had taught him in no uncertain terms that it was not fair. Heartless, fickle, sadistic, perhaps—but not fair.

Once Lestrange was settled in his place, Tate offered, "Rodolphus, feel free to lie down if you like."

"Why? So you can molest me, you poof?" sniped Rodolphus. "And it's Mr. Lestrange to you." He leaned back as far as a no-back chair would allow and crossed his arms. Already he felt his stomach muscles tense; this would be a long, painful session if he intended to hold this pose for more than a few minutes. "Why am I here?"

"Why are any of us here?" lamented Lucius. "We did our best to better society, and were duly cast down for it. It's so true what they say, no good deed goes unpunished."

"No, you got sentenced to this nightmare. Why am I here?"

"I asked to meet some of Lucius' and Severus' co-workers," said Tate. "I've met some of his friends, like Gilderoy Lockhart—"

"So now that ponce Lockhart is your friend and I'm a co-worker?" demanded Lestrange.

"He is not my friend," Lucius snapped. To Tate he said, "And it's Mr. Malfoy."

"Aright, Severus' fr—" was all Tate got out.

"Don't. Even. Go. There," intoned Snape menacingly.

Tate eyed Severus for a brief moment. He feared one day the Goth/Satan worshipper might truly snap, and he'd prefer not to be in the line of fire when he did. He had a peculiar fondness for his head attached to his neck. "Anyway, there was Harry Potter."

Curiosity piqued, Rodolphus lifted his head. "Since when are you friends with Harry freakin' Potter?" he exclaimed to no one and everyone at once.

His answer was a cold glare from Snape and a sputtered protest from Lucius. "He's not—how could you—that halfblood whelp is not now, nor was he ever, my friend! Tate brought him here to torture me!"

"So, Rodolphus, how do you know Lucius and Severus?" asked Tate hurriedly.

"Mr. Malfoy!" Lucius barked at the same time Roddy said, "Mr. Lestrange!"

Same obsession with name as Lucius, Tate wrote on his pad.

When no one spoke, Roddy added, "He's my brother-in-law. My wife and his are sisters—and we grew up together."

Oh, now they were getting somewhere! Eyes aglow, Tate leaned in. "What was Lucius like as a child? You knew his father, I presume."

"Of course I did, you git. And Lucius was…Lucius. Same person, smaller size."

Lucius beamed at them, then flipped his hair back. "Yes, I was magnificent even as a child."

"Bella loathed him," said Rodolphus. "She's my wife."

"I loathed her more," Lucius shot back.

"I've, er, heard of Bellatrix," Tate said, treading softly and shuddering.

"So, Malfoy, you been badmouthing my wife to this prick?" Rodolphus growled.

"Hmph," snorted Lucius indignantly. "I simply spoke the truth and let him draw his own conclusions."

"Which, if he had a modicum of sense, would be negative," Severus added, baring his teeth in a semblance of a smile.

Cringing at the fright-inducing expression coming from Severus, Tate had to look away. He'd hoped the man would develop emotions, but this was just creepy. "Well, Rodolphus—"

"Mr. Lestrange! Are you retarded or what?"

"Ah—Mr. Lestrange—Lucius has spoken of your—"

"Wait a minute," interrupted Lucius. "I've been after you to use my proper name since day one, and you still can't manage it, but Roddy calls you retarded and suddenly you obey him?" He paused for dramatic effect. "I've apparently not been forthcoming enough with my insults."

"I thought we discussed name-calling," Tate reminded him.

"I thought we were talking about Bella," muttered Rodolphus.

"And I thought we were supposed to be engaged in this drivel passed off as therapy, not kindergarten," Severus snapped. "We all lose."

"ANYWAY," Tate boomed so loudly it took all three wizards by surprise. "Lucius said Bellatrix had passed on."

"And he was glad, we all were," Severus supplied, too cheerily if you asked Malfoy. That was, after all, not something one discussed in the presence of her bereaved husband.

Rodolphus, looking less bored and almost cross, went for his wand before remembering it had been taken from him before he'd been allowed to enter the building. "Snape, shut the f—k up. She was a good wife, not like a lonely, greasy, woman-repelling halfbreed like you would understand."

"She cheated on you for years with Voldemort," Snape replied drolly.

"Don't say his name!"

Snape rolled his eyes. "He's dead, it's asinine to refrain from mentioning his name on the nonsensical possibility that he may resurrect and overhear them. We can bloody well say what we want."

"Preferably using really long, stupid words," Roddy said snarkily.

Lestrange has irrational fear of Lucius' deceased father, Tate scribbled. He wondered if it had anything to do with the abuse Lucius had suffered—maybe Rodolphus had endured it as well.

"Did you know Roddy asked for their marriage?" asked Lucius out of the blue. Noting all eyes suddenly on him, he smirked. "He had his father arrange it."

"Why am I always the last to know everything?" asked Severus.

"Maybe you should've grown up in the pureblood crowd," said Rodolphus smugly.

"As if it were my choice," retorted Snape, who couldn't resist his own shot. "For your information, I'm far more clever and talented than you or most of the purebloods I've had the misfortune to meet."

Rodolphus a skinhead like Lucius? Tate wrote. Severus not included. "Severus, why were you excluded from the, er, activities of Lucius and Rodolphus?"

"Because he's a halfblood, you dimwit," said Roddy. "Our kind don't associate with his…well, except as Death Eaters, but that was way after growing up."

Rodolphus also animal torturer. Was there anyone in their circle who wasn't a mental mess? "And a halfblood is…?"

"Better than a muggle." Roddy burst out laughing at his statement, then just as quickly stopped. "I think we should talk about Bella."

"I think not," countered Severus, crossing his arms.

"This is my session, why does everyone get to ruin it?" whined Lucius, no longer merry at Roddy's crack at muggles.

"We should make Rodolphus feel comfortable," insisted Tate.

"Want to see a picture of her?" asked Rodolphus, brightening.

Ignoring the frantic gestures coming from Malfoy and Snape, Tate nodded. "Sure." He fully expected Lestrange to take out his wallet; he did not expect him to go to the door, open it, step outside, and come back in lugging an obviously heavy, huge picture frame that was half as large as he was, banging it on the doorjamb as he entered. It was covered with a black velvet cloth, which he removed with a flourish when he reached his seat.

"Isn't she beautiful?" he announced proudly.

"Shhh! Don't wake it!" Lucius gasped in a hushed tone.

Jaw hanging, Tate murmured, "Uh—er—yes. She is that." Indeed she was, long curled black hair cascading around the sides of her fine, lovely porcelain face, pouty mouth, closed yet sensuous eyes.

Severus glanced perfunctorily at the portrait, then scoffed, "Oh, please. She hasn't looked like that since before Voldemort died the first time. Azkaban ravaged more than her mind."

"You wanna go, Snape?" Lestrange challenged. "When I get my wa—"

He was interrupted by a long, drawn out groan emanating from the picture. Bella stretched her arms over her head, then opened her eyes, looking startled and confused. In a grating, shrill tone she demanded, "Where am I? Roddy, where the hell did you bring me?"

Recoiling in revulsion, Lucius spat, "Good going, Severus, you woke the bit…beast." To Tate he said, "Meet Bellatrix Black Lestrange."

Bella's head swiveled to Lucius. "What're you doing here, blondie?"

Gobsmacked, Tate finally found his voice. "Did—did that portrait just…talk?"

Snidely Bella answered, "If it could, it would fry you for being a disgusting muggle. Really, Roddy, you're hanging out with a low crowd these days. I'd understand if it were a muggle hunt, but it doesn't appear to be."

"Queen of the Obvious," said Snape.

"Shut it, filthy halfbreed! Rodolphus!"

"Yes, Bella?" He repositioned the portrait so Bella could see the entire group at once. When he tried to stroke her hair, she lashed out at him with razor-sharp fingernails.

"What am I doing here? You said you were taking me to blondie's house to visit with his exquisite father."

"Isn't Mr. Malfoy deceased?" asked Tate meekly. This had to be one of those magician tricks he'd heard about…maybe she wasn't really dead. After all, this crowd had code words for everything, 'dead' must mean something else. He found himself writing, Bellatrix infatuated with Lucius' dead father…she's also dead, so not sure what is going on. Telly screen in portrait frame?

Bella rolled her eyes. "Of course. How else will I enter his portrait? F—king moron."

"You are not visiting my father!" Lucius shouted. "He's told you many times he loves my mother and doesn't want you around. What. Is. Your. Problem?"

"How much time do you have?" asked Severus, chuckling. Lucius joined in.

Nose in the air, Bella remarked, "Cackle away, muggle-lovers. I can't help it if Abraxas is attractive and you're a troll, Loo-see-us."

Unable to let that one go, Severus said, "At the risk of usurping your position as stater of the obvious, Lucius looks just like him."

"Phht! I don't see it," she said, wiping her fingers on the napkin in her lap to remove the orange crust from the Cheetohs she'd been eating before her nap.

Lucius appealed to his brother-in-law. "Roddy, tell her she's not going to my manor."

"Blow it out your wig, blondie!" she retorted.

Lucius gasped, mouth agape. "You take that back!"

"Make me."

He turned to Rodolphus, indignant and furious. "This is my real hair, you know it is! She knows it!"

"Geez, relax, Lucius," said Rodolphus calmly. "She's just pushin' your buttons—which, by the way, is way too easy to do."

Head pivoting back and forth as he listened to his patient arguing with a…portrait…Tate continued writing in his notes. OMG, I finally figured it out. It's a conspiracy. My enemies are trying to drive me mad. But who? I don't have any enemies I'm aware of. One of my other patients? Or more likely the ones seated in the room now. They hate me, they've always hated me, they resent my trying to help them. They're bonkers, the lot of them, and they want to take me down with them. I won't go, I won't! No amount of money is worth this, I'm out. If I leave the country, maybe they won't find me. I

"Muggle!" screamed the shrill voice. "Roddy, where'd the muggle go?"

All three men glanced at Tate's empty chair, at the notepad on the floor, then the partially open door.

"He seems to have left," said Rodolphus.

"Congratulations, Bellatrix, your winning personality has driven yet one more person away," drawled Severus. "And this time we thank you."

Shoulders slumped, Lucius moaned, "Does this mean…"

"Yes, it does. You owe me," gloated Bella, clapping her hands. "So let's get a move on. Roddy, aim me so I can see where we're going. And God help you if you smack me against a doorway! Abraxas, I'm coming!"