Death Eater meeting

Welcome, Death Eaters. Said to the hooded wizards who had just apparated in front of him, a 14-year-old child sitting on a throne, flanked by two men who were none other than Lucius Malfoy and Peter Pettigrew.

Thirteen years... Thirteen years have passed since the last time we saw each other. Yet, you answered my call as if we had parted yesterday... continued Voldemort until one of the men in black interrupted him.

Potter! How dare you summon us? I will teach you what it costs to want to play adult games. Brachialigo!

The spell shot towards Voldemort, who drew his wand so quickly that the Death Eaters thought it had Apparated into his hand. With a careless gesture, he halted the spell a few centimeters from the tip of his wand. Then, without paying attention to the Death Eaters who had begun to kneel, he started to play with the spell. He extracted sparks from it before flicking them away, slowly deconstructing the spell as if it were a child's puzzle. Once the magic was reduced to a few elemental bricks, he made it disappear with a breath. Finally, after a pause carefully calculated to maximize its effect, he declared in a low voice, like a threatening whisper:

Seeing you all in perfect health, with your powers intact, I wondered... How is it that all these wizards never came to the aid of their master to whom they had sworn eternal loyalty? I thought that you believed me broken, gone, disappeared. That you had therefore returned among my enemies, pleading innocence, ignorance... I then wondered... How could they think that I would not return? Those who knew everything I had done, long ago, to protect myself against death? Those who had proof of the vastness of my powers, at the time when I was the most powerful of wizards? Once again, I had imagined an answer. Perhaps they thought that an even greater power might exist, a power that could have defeated Lord Voldemort himself... But thanks to you, Travers, everything is clear now: you are just completely stupid! Crucio! Incompetent! Crucio! Degenerate blood! Anhelatio!He shouted while targeting the dark mages one by one, from now on, kneel before him.

Master, forgive us. Shouted a Death Eater who was just catching his breath after being deprived of it by unbearable pain in his lungs, just before Voldemort raised his wand at him.

Forgive you? FORGIVE YOU! Why should I do that? I am ashamed to have fought by your side. You are the scum of the wizarding world. You ruined my life! He shouted, mad with rage before swaying for a few moments and then continuing more calmly:

Nevertheless, your presence proves that you have the courage to face the consequences of your actions. Voldemort values courage almost as much as loyalty. I will give each of you a chance to be forgiven. Not only will I not kill you, but I also grant you the honor of rejoining the ranks of my servants. And one day, if you serve me well, I will give you the opportunity to redeem yourselves. I will test your loyalty by asking for a sacrifice (all shuddered upon hearing this). Those who accept will be definitively cleansed of their sins and can once again be part of our great family. As for the others, nothing can describe the fate I have in store for them.

oOoOoOoOo

A few hours later, Peter was finally able to leave the throne room and fully immerse himself in his thoughts. He kept wondering why the Dark Lord had been so lenient. Barely a few Doloris, and not even a murder as an example. Moreover, the more he thought about it, the more the speech he had given seemed incoherent or at least different from those he remembered. Could it be that Harry was still there, somewhere inside? No, Peter had to stop deluding himself. He could no longer afford new mistakes due to illusory hopes.

For the first time in a long time, he thought back to that crucial day that had determined his fate. That day when he had begged the Sorting Hat to send him to the same house as the 3 friends he had made on the train and not to Slytherin. The Sorting Hat had warned him that he was making a mistake and that he would not have enough courage to lead the life he had chosen.

For 10 years, he remained convinced that the Sorting Hat had been wrong. Then during a raid by the Order of the Phoenix on a Death Eater's home, he was captured and brought to the Dark Lord. Lupin, Potter, and Black would have died without hesitation to protect him. But after 10 minutes of the master's Cruciatus Curse, he knelt, told him everything he knew, and finally begged him to spare his life. Surprisingly, he agreed.

After subjecting him to the Cruciatus Curse until he fainted, he woke up covered in injuries in his small apartment on Diagon Alley, located above the shop where he was apprenticing.

Someone was knocking frantically at the door. He grimaced and tried to grab a glass of water from his nightstand. But his hand fell on a photo of his mother in a red circle with her address and schedule next to it. He swallowed before putting it away in a drawer. Then, he got dressed to quickly go open the door. He barely had time to crack it open before it was forced open by an angry James Potter, wand pointed at his throat.

How much aconite was used for the potion that turned Servilus's hair red for a week?Zeros. We used spirulina because Sirius had given all our stock of aconite to a girl for Valentine's Day.

Immediately, James had withdrawn his wand and held it in his arms.

Where did you go? We were worried sick. You never came to the debriefing and we spent the night looking for you. We were so worried!

Ouch! James, you're hurting me.

Sorry. But are you hurt?!

James had not asked him any more questions and, despite Peter's protests, had authoritatively taken him to St. Mungo's. Thus, he had spent the afternoon waiting with him, in silence, in a cold corridor of St. Mungo's, as if nothing had happened. As if he had not just betrayed his best friends.

James had complete trust in his friends, and if Peter didn't want to tell him what had happened to him, then he wouldn't force him. Since the beginning of this war, they had all had their difficult moments, moments they didn't necessarily want to talk about with others. At least not immediately. Inevitably, the Marauders ended up telling each other everything. Some just needed time, sometimes, to sort things out in their heads.

But this time, Peter kept to himself what had happened, far too ashamed of having betrayed their secrets to the lord of darkness. He thought back thenBeing able to manage alone, telling himself that he had been taken by surprise, and that next time, he would fight to the death not to betray his friends. The first requests concerned insignificant information and he had given in, thinking that his mother's life was more important.

But little by little, the requested information had become top-notch. Until the day he was asked to confess the address of Ulisse Stokke's hideout. He was a corrupt politician who had joined their ranks after Dumbledore threatened to use his position as president of the Wizengamot to send him to Azkaban. Once again, he didn't have much trouble choosing between the life of that arrogant bastard and that of his mother. But the next day, seeing the dismembered bodies of his comrades who died during the surprise attack on Ulisse's hideout that followed, Peter knew that a line had been crossed. From now on, there was no question of confessing anything. Now his only hope of salvation was that Dumbledore would defeat the dark lord quickly. But each day, the old man grew weaker while the monster grew stronger.

People were dying around him and the ministry seemed on the verge of falling when he received the most terrible order of his life: to deliver the Potters. It was almost a relief to answer that he didn't know where they were hidden. Almost, because that day was when the torture reached the most horrible level. Once it was over, Peter could barely pronounce his name. In addition to physical tortures, he had undergone various mental tortures that had left his mind completely at Voldemort's mercy. He could no longer hide anything from him.

When Sirius had told him about his plan to make him the keeper of their friends' secrets, he had begged him to change his mind. But no one had ever succeeded in changing Sirius Black's mind. He had then wanted to confess everything to him, but it was the lack of courage that failed him.

When the time came for his weekly meeting with the Dark Lord, Peter had thought about fleeing, but once again, he wasn't brave enough. And the next moment, he was kneeling before his throne, tearfully confessing the location of the Potters. Anything rather than relive that horror. Only those who had already been tortured by Voldemort could dare to judge him and call him a coward.

But Voldemort had congratulated and rewarded him by marking him instantly. Peter knew what it meant: when the Potters were dead, Voldemort would reveal his role to the world. Peter would then take his rightful place among his other loyal Death Eaters. Shame and disgust had overwhelmed him when he had lowered himself to kiss his feet.

Finally, the Sorting Hat had been right.

Three months later, the Master had been defeated by Harry, and for Peter, a long escape began.

But upon closer inspection, he had been fleeing since that fateful day when he was first captured by the lord of darkness. Since then, his life had become nothing more than a massive flight forward into the darkness. He had believed that the dark lord would be defeated before his betrayal was discovered. He had believed that he would never return and that Sirius would remain in prison. He had believed that Sirius would be arrested before he could take revenge on him. He had believed that the horcruxes would all be destroyed and that he could spend the rest of his life atoning for his sins by watching over the one he considered his nephew.

Except that until now, he had always seen a light at the end of the tunnel that had pushed him to move forward. Today, only an eternity of servitude stretched out before him. Maybe it was time for him to stop running away. But would he have the courage?

oOoOoOoOo

Lucius, for his part, left the Death Eaters' meeting thinking anxiously about the future. Unlike Peter, Lucius almost never thought about the past. As far as he was concerned, it was a waste of time to think about what could not be changed. In any case, the only significant event in his past had been the birth of his son. Everything else had been nothing but cold socializing, bloody murders, hushed discussions in the alcoves of the Wizengamot, and other burdensome duties incumbent upon the heir of a great house like his.

Although perhaps it was the right day to think about Draco? The child had made quite a scene when he ran into him after returning from his meeting with the deputy editor of the gazette. He, who thought he could rest for a few moments, had to explain why he hadn't come to pick him up at the train station. As if Lucius Malfoy had nothing better to do than come to see him after school! To him, this demand seemed absurd and convinced him that he had been far too lenient with his heir. He himself would never have dared to be so cheeky with his own father. Not that he completely disliked it, but he wanted Draco to grow up aware of his rank and the duties that come with it.

However, his master would soon notice the many deviations from the traditional pureblood education that he had had to concede over the years. Lucius had known his master for a long time now. He knew that he never used the word sacrifice lightly. He knew what it meant in his case. Sooner or later, he would demand Draco from him. Lucius could still hear his own father's voice assuring him that it was a great honor, while instructing him to offer his right arm to the one he perceived as a monster. At first, he hadn't believed his father and had found this mark hideous. Then, as he grew up, he understood and devoted himself body and soul to the service of his master and the regeneration of the wizarding world.

It was the only voice worthy of a wizard. He should have been proud to be able to deliver a son to the cause. However, the mere idea of seeing the mark appear on his heir's virgin skin caused him an irreparable discomfort. All of this was his wife's fault, thought Lucius. Nott was lucky that circumstances had freed him from his burdensome marital burden. He was thus able to fulfill his educational duties without having to concede anything to maternal instincts. Nevertheless, deep down, Lucius knew he was wrong to blame his wife. He could never have treated Draco as harshly as Nott's son had been treated. But if he had, Draco would have had some chance of surviving what awaited him. Merlin! How was Draco going to survive, when during his initiation ceremony into dark magic, he had not even been able to bear the sight of Theodore Nott's very fine performance on that house-elf, Lucius Malfoy worried. Whatever he had thought at the time, this excess of sensitivity was unacceptable. He should have reacted much more firmly at the time.

But nothing was decided yet. The lord of darkness would certainly leave him little free time, but he promised to dedicate it entirely to the re-education of his son. And that would start with intensive occlumency lessons.

oOoOoOo

Author's note: In this chapter, I haveplagiarizedborrowed a passage from the fanfiction:Harry Potter et les Méthodes de la Rationalité