"The muggles don't know what's best for themselves, do they? That's the part nobody ever understands. Grindelwald wasn't particularly for killing the muggles, he's for protecting them, ultimately. For their own good. And everything that Grindelwald said would happen happened, didn't it? All the wars muggles have raged in the last century? All the deaths and killing machines and ravaged countries - and over what? Their bleedin' pride. Their greed. Their hatred and judgement. Over skin colors and creeds. The muggles forget to see each other as humans..." Barty Crouch shook his head, spinning the glass that sat on the table in front of himself, picking at the handpie on the plate in front of him as he spoke. "It's for the greater good, really. Grindelwald wanted to protect the muggles from themselves. From each other. And only wizards can do that for them... only wizards because we have the power to stop them Killin' each other, see?"
Peter nodded. "It's like he was saying in his book. About how the wizards would be in control only because magic is more powerful than non-magic, because if fate bestows magic upon a person, then they have been deemed by fate to be worthy of rulership?"
"Well, I dunno about that part," Barty scowled, "There are plenty of wizards who possess magic but aren't worthy of anything."
"But the general idea is that wizards are superior because of magic," Oni input.
"Yes," Barty said, "And we can use magic to improve the world. To stop the muggles wars. To bring harmony. And this is good for everyone - wizards and muggles alike - and so the muggles must be... for lack of a better word... controlled... subdued." He tapped his finger against the table. "And why should wizards stay in hiding anyway?" he demanded, "Why us? Why not them? Why not the weak ones hiding their non-magic from us magic ones?"
"Yeah!" Peter said, shaking his head, "Why not?"
Oni said, "I mean, witches and wizards initially hid their magic from the muggles because they could be killed for being magic."
"And the sympathists think we're the judgemental, cruel ones," snorted Barty, shaking his head. "They kill us then get angry for keeping magic to ourselves?"
Oni shook her head.
"And worse, now, after hundreds of years of magic being in pureblood lines, suddenly magic is showing up in common muggles? They're stealing our magic from us," Barty said, a look of distaste on his face. "All Grindelwald proposed was a return to the wizarding world being free and open again, to oversee peace in the world between muggles and wizards."
"And what about... Voldemort?" Oni asked.
Barty eyed her and Peter felt a chill go down his spine at the name.
Everyone in his group of friends had very carefully avoided saying the name of the Dark Lord out loud ever since the morning Regulus Black had disappeared from the kitchen table at the sound of it. But nothing happened when Oni said it. Several beats of anxious waiting passed before Peter sighed relief that none of them had disappeared from the table.
Barty said, "Voldemort's a bit more... extreme... than Grindelwald's beliefs called for. But the Dark Lord has been wronged by muggles. He's seen their cruelty first hand. He has a score to settle. He has the passion to muster the world, the charisma to lead the fight. He doesn't have it all right - neither did Grindelwald. But you have to rally around someone. Someone must lead the way. And he has the power..." Barty shrugged. "I know what Dumbledore would have his followers believe of the Dark Lord and of Grindelwald..." Barty lowered his voice, "Honestly, Dumbledore's got a great deal of personal vendettas and scores to finish off with'em both. You wanna look at questionable people - look at Dumbledore himself. At least the Dark Lord is open about his prejudices. Don't think for a second Dumbledore hasn't got'em. He has."
Peter's face dawned in surprise - genuine surprise. Hadn't James said nearly this same thing only just recently about Dumbledore? That Dumbledore couldn't be fully trusted? That there was more to the old headmaster than showed on the surface? Was it the same as whatever Barty was hinting at now? Peter wondered. And if it was... did that mean that James was actually, intellectually, on the same page as the followers of Grindelwald? Was it perhaps that they'd been misunderstanding the whole political game all these years - assuming they knew the "right" side because they'd only looked at the surface of it? Had Voldemort given Grindelwald's theories a bad face, a bad spin, which had blinded the masses to the truth of what Grindelwald actually had believed in?
It sounded almost like Grindelwald had wanted peace.
Oni Lamm said, "Yeah, Dumbledore's real dark," and the weight of her voice as she said it made Peter look at her and he could see it in her eyes that she meant it, too.
Barty smiled and looked them over, "Oni Lamm - I know you, I remember you at Hogwarts." He glanced at Peter, looked him over a moment.
Peter was sure Barty would remember him. He was one of the Marauders after all and even though it had been mostly James and Sirius that had been famous-famous around the school for the pranks and such, he and Remus had been carried along in the gale, too, hadn't they? Surely anyone that had gone to school with them would recognize him, too? Especially since Barty had been mates with Regulus, surely you recognize one of the best friends of your mate's brother at least a bit? And the Marauders had had plenty of run-ins with Barty's group about the castle, too. Hadn't there been arguments between Sirius and Regulus with Barty and Peter right there? Duels between James and Severus Snape with the pair of them about?
But Barty shook his head, "I'm sorry. What was your name again?"
"Peter Pettigrew," Peter said, and he felt a bit disappointed.
"Oh right, right," Barty said, and he grinned, "They call you Wormtail, don't they?"
Peter lit up with excitement at being remembered, even if it was by the funny moniker. "Yes, yes, that's right, that's me, yes!" he said excitedly.
Barty laughed, "Funny nickname, that is, how'd you come by it?"
"My mates," Peter said vaguely.
Barty didn't press, he simply said, "Well Oni, Wormtail... It sounds like my speech reached the pair of you, at least, so it wasn't for nothing. Hey, you ought to come 'round for a little get together me and my mates are having... You can learn more about what we believe."
And Peter felt a funny feeling come over him.
Like something had just fallen into place.
Sirius waved bye-bye to Nymphadora as Ted Tonks carried her down the stairs to the alley to disapparate home. She waved over his shoulder with energetic flaps of her arms. The moment Ted had spun on the spot and they'd disappeared, Sirius turned 'round, re-entered the flat, slammed and locked the door, and announced, "Where the fuck is the rat, I'm going to murder him."
Remus sighed from the couch, where he was sitting, a book open on his lap. "I dunno where he is. Maybe he figures we've come home by now and found out what he's done and he's too scared to show his face 'round here. Maybe he's ashamed of what an irresponsible thing it was to leave a child home alone like that."
Sirius was too frustrated to feel the love magic connection and his stomach was churning slightly, making the frustration even more pronounced. And for fucksake what wouldn't he give for a cigarette at that moment, to calm the jittering nerves that seemed to crawl under his skin? He stomped his way over to the coffee table and picked up the records he and Tonks had strewn all over, quickly stuffing them back into his case. "Anything could've happened, anything at all," he was grumbling.
"I know," Remus said, nodding.
Sirius shook his head and picked the box of records up from the table, carrying them down the hallway to the bedroom, muttering in anger as he went.
Remus slid a marker into the pages of his book and sat forward, dropping his legs from the edge of the coffee table with a sigh. Sirius was already pissed - he was only going to get worse with the news of the book Peter was harboring. He shook his head and dropped the book onto the table, bending forward and rubbing his eyes with exhaustion that hadn't even been extended yet. He got up and started down the hallway, intent on telling Sirius about what he'd found in Peter's room.
Sirius was in the bedroom, tucking the box of records safely in their place the low shelf on the bottom part of his nightstand.
"I wouldn't trust him if I was you."
Sirius looked up. Regulus's Portrait was sentient again, looking right at him with a frown.
"Oh look who's awake and talking now," Sirius said. "Have a good chat with Nymphadora, did you?"
Regulus's eyes burned from the sheet of parchment in the frame as he let the words die away, then he repeated, "You can't trust Peter."
"Peter?" Sirius snorted. "I mean he did a stupid thing, leaving a kid alone, but he's one of my best mates. He's just a stupid little fucker is all." He shook his head, finished putting up the records, and stood upright, staring at the portrait. "Where have you been? It's been days since you talked to me. You knew it was morning sickness the other day - how'd you know that? Lily's pregnant and I've been having --"
"I don't care if Peter is one of your best mates," Regulus's Portrait interrupted, frustrated, "He's lying and sneaking about, putting little kids in danger and telling them to lie to you and to your husband and he's reading --"
Sirius laughed, "Oh so now you think people who keep secrets and tell lies are untrustworthy?"
The Portrait loooked up at him.
"Where was that attitude for the past - I dunno, Reg - seventeen years?"
"It was entirely different with me," Regulus's Portrait snapped. "I was forced into that life. I didn't choose it. I didn't go reading propaganda and searching for it. I didn't choose, I --"
"You DID choose it!" Sirius interrupted, "You chose it over and over all the time growing up, you raced down the stairs every time, begged mother and father to let you attend and --"
"I didn't! I was a child! I asked the Dark Lord to play fucking gobstones, I didn't know what I was getting into. I was forced to keep my eyes open, to see and --"
"You were always eager to --"
"-- being pushed into it --"
"--practically throwing yourself, wanting to be around Volde--"
"Don't say the fucking name! Do you not learn? I'm DEAD because you couldn't stop saying his name! When will you learn to --"
"You're fucking dead because you were a follower of You Know Who! Because you were always falling at his gods damned feet instead of choosing ME, your own brother. Because you CHOSE to SERVE him."
"I was forced into it because you were too weak and mother and father cut you loose. Always crying --"
"Spare me your fucking martyr speech, Regulus! Weak? Me? Fuck you. Try being fucking tortured every day for hours and told you're shit and you're not good enough and you're expendable and you should die for what you are. Try being the spare. Try being the piece of shit neither parent wanted, the disappointment, the stain, the one they could practice their cruciatus curses on. Try being the one pissing yourself on father's office floor and see how you like it, see if you think it's fucking weak then."
"W-wait. What?" the Portrait's eyes narrowed with concern, the jaw dropped a bit.
"You're the one that betrayed me, you're the one I never could trust. So don't talk shit about Peter because he made one little mistake when YOU turned your back on me again and again and again our entire lives, our entire childhood, when YOU mocked me and did just like them - torturing me, spreading rumors about me all over the school, stealing letters and blackmailing me, treating me like shit just like they always did, treating me like rubbish, being a little bastard all your life to me... then showing up when you need help, when you needed me, and expecting me to drop everything and just accept you, just trust you, just believe you were different."
Sirius picked the Portrait up.
"I'm sorry, I --" stammered Regulus from the portrait, but Sirius wasn't listening.
"How many of our secrets did you broadcast to all the death eaters? Huh? How many things did you run back and report to him? Was it worth it? Was it worth being killed by him? Was he everything you hoped and dreamed in the end? When he looked you right in the face and slaughtered you the same as he did to father? Just like Alphard said he would? Fuck YOU, Regulus... Fuck you."
And he threw the frame across the room as hard as his arm would let him.