A/N: Although the overall story is far from finished, I've changed this volume's status to 'complete' as I'm going to split the story into parts to prevent the chapter and word countreaching a ridiculous length for a single story, and because there are very distinct plot arcs to each section that I want to separate out. We should be wrapping up the money storyline with Pettigrew here, but if anyone wants to find out what scheme Barty gets caught up in next, please check out my profile for the sequel(s).

Chapter Twenty-Five

As usual, Barty didn't have much trouble getting out of the house on Tuesday night. His father was working the late shift (or rather what seemed like the 24 hour shift); his mother had gone to bed early and Winky had grown accustomed to his 'trips to the Hog's Head' that she never reported back to his father. So it was that at seven o' clock that Tuesday evening, Barty found himself in a hardware store on Knockturn Alley in the presence of Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange, Rodolphus Lestrange and Walden Macnair (who, thanks to Barty's selective gathering of evidence, had been acquitted the previous week).

Barty was the last to arrive, which meant that when he did so he was greeted by contemptuous glances from the other four. "Have you got the money?" Malfoy asked brusquely the moment after Barty apparated in front of him.

"I have a bank note," Barty said, trying to keep his voice from shaking in an attempt to hide his nerves.

"I hope that will be good enough for Pettigrew. I have brought cash," Malfoy said with a sneer in his voice, indicating the bags of money laid out on the floor behind him. Even at a time like this he couldn't resist gloating about his wealth.

"It will be good enough," Barty responded, feeling fairly confident that what he said was true. If Pettigrew wanted to live then he had no choice but to forfeit the money.

"I've told Pettigrew to meet us here," Malfoy continued, "Then we will escort him back to my family home where the Dark Lord is waiting for us."

"That's if the treacherous little rat shows up," Bellatrix spat following Malfoy's statement.

Nobody had a chance to say anything more though before they all heard a voice from the back of the store. "He will."

They all turned to see a small figure emerging from the shadows.

"Pettigrew," Rodolphus said disdainfully.

"Let me see the money," Pettigrew demanded, his voice a squeak.

At that all four Death Eaters, except Barty, gave a rather menacing laugh. "Not yet, Pettigrew," Rodolphus continued. "Not until you've come with us."

"How do I know the money's genuine?"

Bellatrix opened one of Malfoy's money bags and took out a galleon, which she threw forcefully at Pettigrew. "That good enough for you, you ungrateful scum?"

Looking rather intimidated, Pettigrew gave a small nod. "Yes, yes that's fine."

"Right then," said Macnair, reaching into his robes and taking out what looked like a pocket watch on a long gold chain. "Well, I have the portkey here. You'll stand beside me and Bellatrix, Pettigrew. Malfoy will handle the money, and don't even think about trying to make a run for it."

Pettigrew looked genuinely scared as he approached Macnair to take hold of the chain of the pocket watch, but Barty wondered how much of it was just an act, like it had been the last time they'd met. A few moments after they had each grabbed hold of part of the portkey, they found themselves standing in a vast, gloomy entrance hall with a grand, ornate ceiling and marble floor. The hall wasn't deserted; several other hooded figures stood surrounding them, and Barty looked round in particular for the one he was most keen to see. As his gaze fell upon the one figure who wasn't hooded, he felt his pulse quicken. The man in question began to approach them, red eyes glinting and thin lips curving into a wicked smile.

"My loyal followers," Lord Voldemort greeted them, "You have brought me the man with the information I require?" His gaze passed over the five Death Eaters in front of him, and as he looked at Barty the youth ran his tongue over his lips nervously and lowered his eyes. It felt strange to him, being noticed like this. He was being noticed by someone important. More than that, he was being praised for doing something that mattered. For once, he wasn't just an insignificant detail: he was an important part of the Dark Lord's plans, and the thought made him feel elated.

"He is here, my Lord," Rodolphus said, shoving Pettigrew forwards roughly so that the man gave a squeak of terror.

"Ah, yes," said Voldemort. "Pettigrew, are you satisfied with the payment I can give you?"

Pettigrew gave a terrified nod.

Voldemort leaned even closer to him so her was leering into his face. "Then tell me the whereabouts of James and Lily Potter."

There was silence for a few moments as Pettigrew seemed to frightened to speak, instead just making incoherent squeaking sounds, but then managed to compose himself enough to form a sentence. "W-wait. There is s-something…"

Voldemort's eyes flashed dangerously and he lowered his voice to a threatening whisper, "What is it, Pettigrew?"

"There is something Crouch wants to say to you first," Pettigrew spat out, and Barty immediately sensed all in the eyes in the room turn to look at him. He felt very awkward and frightened.

Voldemort turned his red eyes to Barty and looked at him questioningly. "What do you have to say to me, Crouch?" His tone was insistent.

Barty realised Pettigrew had been serious in his threat. All this frightened, pathetic exterior was just an act, and if Crouch didn't say something to defend him then Pettigrew would no doubt somehow manage to escape and expose him to his father. "Pettigrew has decided that he would like to become one of your followers, my Lord, not merely an informant." Barty's eyes flickered down to look at Pettigrew, who seemed to be watching him nervously to see where this was going.

Voldemort kept his menacing gaze on Barty. "Oh yes?"

"He has told me he is willing to forfeit the money in order to be accepted into your circle of followers." The look on Pettigrew's face told Barty that he was not at all happy to forfeit the money, but had little choice but to go along with it now.

"Is this so, Pettigrew?" Voldemort asked, turning back to the rat-man.

"Yes, my Lord," Pettigrew said, kneeling at his feet.

"Do you wish for me to Mark you?"

"Yes, my Lord. Please, my Lord."

Voldemort seemed to consider this for a few moments before reaching his conclusion. "I'm not sure I want that."

"M-my Lord?" Pettigrew stammered, seemingly even more panicked and terrified than before.

"I don't think I want Peter Pettigrew, best friend of one of my enemies, in my circle of followers."

"My Lord, please…" Pettigrew was begging.

"That will not do. What name should we have for you instead?"

At that, Pettigrew seemed to calm down somewhat. "My Lord?"

"I do not want the name Pettigrew forever associated with me. What shall I call you instead?" He leant closer to Pettigrew, who whispered something in his ear, and then Voldemort straightened and gave a satisfied smile. "Wormtail? Very good, very appropriate. Now hold out your arm, Wormtail."

Pettigrew did as he was instructed, and Voldemort took hold of his wrist and roughly pushed back the material of his sleeve. He then took out his wand and pressed the tip to the soft skin on the inside of Pettigrew's arm. "Morsmordre."

Pettigrew screamed as the Dark Mark was burnt into his skin and Barty flinched, remembering his own initiation not that long ago. It had felt like a red hot iron being applied to his flesh from the inside out. He had screamed too.

Just a few moments later it was over and there was silence in the hall once more. Once again Voldemort leaned in close to Pettigrew to speak to him, but his voice carried throughout the hall. "Are you ready to serve your master, Wormtail?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"Then tell me, where are the Potters?"

Wormtail took a deep breath before answering, "Godric's Hollow."