Chapter Text
Petter Pettigrew had a strange character. His voice shivered every time he spoke, as if he was out of breath; his gaze never reached higher than knee-level, not matter how much Regulus insisted to be looked at, as it created a connection between them both; nor he ever complained, which was fantastic. Regulus didn’t like complaints, although it was simply curious that Peter always stayed silent. Whenever the Dark Lord called for them, the dark mark would burn and Peter whined. It was obvious he was trying not to let any sound scape his mouth but apparently, it was hard.
At first, he thought Peter didn’t like pain at all - cheers to a healthy childhood - but then he realized, after a couple of unrelevant missions, that Peter didn’t really mind pain, it’s just that he suffered being called for a whole other reason.
He didn’t think he cared much about his partner’s comfort to question him about it, but among all the problems he had to deal with, thinking about the matter was one to add to the list.
Walburga’s disappearance was a good distraction.
After months of pacing around the old house, wondering about her whereabouts, the woman returned one very odd afternoon through the floo connector and, judging by the electric green fire coming from the chimney, her previous location was abroad.
Turned out, she spent a time in reclusion at their old vacation house in Prague. She was already there, taking care of her younger sister’s health when an owl flew with news about Orion. The howler gave away his decease but left aside what exactly caused it. Although, Regulus didn’t know his mother well, he could tell very well that the fatigue was eating her from the insides as she could barely walk, her skin was pale and greenish, and to add something new, he didn’t mutter a single word once she saw him. Regulus rushed to her side right after hurriedly asking Kreacher to bring a chair and a cup of tea for the woman.
“Mother,” He squated by her side, not minding his trousers touching the dusty wooden floor. “How are you feeling, moher?” She did not answer, she was gone, lost in her thoughts. Regulus could not believe the decease of his father could ever affect her so much. He didn’t even believe she loved him at all, then why would she suffer?
Ever since her return, Walburga woke up very late, she would eat brunch in the patio, letting the sun brush her wrinkles and it would make her now grey hairs shine in an almost white light. Even her voice sounded, although dense, very soft, nothing compared to what Regulus grew up with. She was more talkative but without screaming all the time and most importantly, she didn’t tell Regulus what to do all the time, in exchange, she would rather look at him and be expectant of his next move. No matter how much Regulus tried to do everything right and walk on eggshells, she just didn’t care much anymore.
But he had to do the bare minimum in what parental care concerned, because he had a mission, to spy.
Before being given his tasks, Regulus had thought on looking for a job as a healer trainee in St. Mungos, that way he could not only do what he cared for which was heal ohters but also to have a believable cover; he would offer to be an insider of the hospital and care for other Death Eaters. It was a good deal considering how often his peers would get injured in battles against enmies of the cause.
Nonetheless, after Voldemort paired him with Pettigrew, Regulus threw all those plans and hopes away. It was very obvious that he wasn’t allowed to have a job while being Voldemort’s right hand. He had enough money to never have to lift a finger and there was no necessity either. The Dark Lord expected for him to be available at all times, almost like an assistant or a lap dog, unlike his father. In resolution, he was a slave, born to be.
Orion and Walburga have always had plans for their kids, they procreated with that in mind, to make their kids becomes rulers, leaders, a total socialité, Voldemort was not initially part of the plan but it sure was an addition to it, blood purity and conservative behaviour was what the Black family was looking for to achieve in life, so they did everything they could to be part of it, a noble one at that. His parents offered him to the Death Eaters like fresh meat, the Dark Lord was fascinated and wanted him all to himself; the youngest Black son, righteous, firm, strict and well raised but most importantly, he was as pure as red blood could get and his core could shine inside of him. His magic was ancient, and so was his lastname, that’s why he was born to be desired by wannabes, by the Dark Lord.
Whom, wouldn’t even let him work, because that was too mundane, too ordinary, and he was not. “I chose you not only because you are capable but also because you havethe enthusiasm and you’re available, to me. I could have chosen Lucius, he was a close second option, but you are way more rational. The Black family has given you commodities, so use them. Be faithful to me and let’s work together to do the right thing”, Regulus was raised to nod and act, so he did. What else was there?
He had a lot to think about as the new Lord Black, he had to be efficient when taking decisions and put his whole being and effort in demostrating he was capable enough… But Peter still kept bugging his mind. “Try not to make a big deal out of it”, he told himself in vain. A confrontation was on the way, he had to.
First, he had to make sure what was in his mind was real and not himself projecting insecurities on someone he saw below him, so he wrote down observations.
- Peter often gets himself in dangerous situations where he had all the chances to lose and would still give his everything to accomplish it.
- Peter is loyal. It‘s obvious none of us both trusted each other but Peter would defend me on battlefield like my right-hand. He is not loyal to me but to himself, he wants to do a good job.
- Peter does not mind feeling pain in fact, he would injure himself often, repair broken arms or let me do the healing without muttering a word.
- Peter did not mind killing muggles or muggle-borns.
- Peter was not exactly proud of his Hogwarts house. He wasn’t ashamed either.
- Peter commented about being in favour of selling information about his lifetime friends to the Dark Lord, although briefly. Whenever we spy their whereabouts, Peter would notice something about Lily or James that I thought went over my head, and he would explain in detail what that meant exactly but only to me, not to Voldemort.
After gathering his thoughts, he realized Peter was an anomaly he didn’t expect in his life but rather a neutral one. The only feeling he had about his partner in crime was curiosity. So, his plan was on motion, he neededto know about his intentions because his mind was not calm at all, but he had to be cautious about questions and observations. To be caught would mean a true breaking of trust and that would ruin everything; to lose naivity - even though there wasn’t - would turn into them failing their mission.
“Pettigrew, say, you have to fight one of the so called marauders, who are you killing and betraying first?” Was not the way to go or else he would be crucioed by the blonde so he had to be creative.
During one of their “spying sessions”as he liked to call them, Regulus was gathering information in the ministry about the Potters.
“Did you know the Potters were once related to the Gaunts? Their family is almost as old as mine and they have one heir. What a shame for their blood to get lost just like that, truly.” They were whispering as they studied books in the files apartment with a disillusionment charm on. The only thing noticeable were their hushed voices and the rustling of old pages as they read information of every wixen.
“You also are an only heir to the oldest family with the Gaunts though.” Peter said as he put a few books on the wooden tables.
“Mhm? Not exactly,” He said as he read lines at the same time, not wasting much time. “See if I were to perish, my cousins would inherit the titles. In the Potter’s case, they have no other heirs, do they?” Regulus looked at him, even though he couldn’t see him, he heard his partner mumbling words.
“Well, he does have cousins, they are old but also have settled down and care for their children. What ever happens, I don’t think James should worry much.”
“Why not? He is as mortal as we are.”
“He has a heir.”
The Potters had a heir… Lily and James Potter had a child.
“Do tell?” He acted disinterested but he was screaming in the inside. That meant information nobody but Peter’s inner circle had. He kept such important information to himself, but why would he protect their child if he was betraying them anyways?
“They’re expecting a son.”
Regulus hummed calmly but he could not stop thinking, in shock, that the panorama of their mission had changed forever.
The Dark Lord wanted for Lucius to bear children with his wife which means he wanted pureblood chilren by his side. Voldemort sent his right hand and a faithful follower to spy on two families who were part of the Order, information given by Severus, one of their members. So, two members of the Order were expecting a child, a son, a heir. Voldemort wanted pureblood children to be his for reasons Regulus did not understand.
Which type of plan could ever involve pureblood children? Regulus supposed the connection of the Potters to the Gaunts could be a reason to try to ally someone but even himself, who grew up in a family that mistreated children as a sport, thought kidnapping a child was simply vile; his parents would have never let anyone not trusted even breath near either him or Sirius.
The Potters had Gaunt’s blood, the Malfoy had economic and political power, but what about the Longbottoms? Sure, they were an ancient family, noble, rich, conservative, had at least twelve seats in the Wizengamot and counting, two dark factions, ten grey factions and the heir Frank Longbottom was not only a quidditch star but also an Auror. But apart from that, what did they have that could interest the Dark Lord in his maleficient plan?
Regulus needed so much answers and quickly.