Tentative

Chapter 1: The star

Chapter 1

The Wild Unknown deck

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"Are you sure?" The words resonate through the room, cold as ice. Wormtail, pathetic and near whimpering, nods, looking everywhere but at him. Lord Voldemort frowns. "I asked you a question. I expect an answer, Peter."

"Y-yes," the boy finally says. And he is just a boy, the Dark Lord muses. A 21 year old child too afraid for this war. An excellent weapon. "The Longbottoms are not under Dumbledore's direct protection, they trust their house wards well enough, Dumbledore is more... backup."

Bella, amusing, cruel Bella, lets out a high laugh. She seems bored with the traitor, maybe even angry. She always had a thing for loyalty above all, her Bella.

"Do you plan on bringing any useful news, you rat?" she asks, eyes shining in the darkness of the room. "Maybe try something we don't know already? The Dark Lord is too busy for pitiful meetings like this.

Bella had not liked Wormtail when he had first crawled his way to the Dark Lord, knees trembling and eyes watering. She had called him weak and pathetic, and both he was. But Wormtail had also proven to be very useful lately, with the unexpected turn of events of the prophecy. The child, the chosen one.

Lord Voldemort can feel his lips curling in the edges. Imagine being so naive to think you could hide the existence of a prophecy from Him. Dumbledore was losing his touch to this never ending war.

His touch and his followers, he reminds himself with a quick look at the boy at his feet.

"I-I... well... I've mostly been with James." Wormtail speaks so low it is almost a whisper. He licks his lips in a rather disgusting gesture. The boy looks like he is about to cry. The Dark Lord stares, disgusted. "That's how I found it. We were sneaking into St Mungo, since little Harry needs to be registered in Hogwarts. We ran into Frank in Gringotts, when James was opening Harry a vault."

It's all very inconsequential, and Bella is right. Lord Voldemort does not have time for this. But something seems to catch Lucius' attention.

"A vault? So soon?" Lucius sounds somewhere between amused and utterly revolted. "Has the blood traitor forgotten a child must survive at least fifteen nights before they can enter the family name? That Mudblood has been a worse influence than previously thought. What a waste."

The Dark Lord frowns.

"It seems so," he says. Wormtail, at Voldemort's feet, raises his eyes.

"Oh, Harry is past that mark," he says, sounding confused. "He is nineteen days old today. I'm sure, I have filled half a million goblin papers with James this morning, and..."

The Dark Lord freezes. Slowly, he stands up from his chair and walks towards the spy. They are in a weekly meeting, all his marked Death Eaters bringing in war reports. The room is barely big enough to hold them all at once. As Lord Voldemort stares down at him, Wormtail stands out. The only one on the floor. The only one unmarked.

The mark is an honour, a reward. Peter Pettigrew had yet to earn either. But maybe tonight...

Wormtail closes his mouth as if he had been cursed, following the Dark Lord with a frightened gaze. When Voldemort is merely a step away from Wormtail, he crouches, locking their eyes. Wormtail nearly recoils.

"What did you just say?" Voldemort asks. His voice is deceitfully soft. The Death Eaters nearer to them tense, no doubt going pale under their silver masks. The one closer to them takes in a deep breath, but Lord Voldemort barely pays attention to Severus Snape as he glares at Wormatil.