A/N:
Written for The Houses Competition, practice round.
House: Slytherin
Class: Ancient Runes
Category: Drabble
Prompt: [Trope] Day in the Limelight
Word count: 975
Betas: Marie, Piper
-x-x-x-
Barty Apparated in front of his house and went inside just as the Polyjuice Potion wore off and he returned to his own appearance. He passed his father strolling aimlessly around the hall with an absent look on his face. The corner of Barty's lips lifted in a malicious smirk. He was enjoying how the tables had turned.
He entered the living room where Wormtail was adjusting a blanket over Voldemort's rudimentary body in an armchair by the fireplace. Wormtail held his arms outstretched, keeping as much distance as he could, holding the edge with only two fingers, disgust painted on his face.
The scene made Barty's blood boil, but he hastily reminded himself that if it weren't for Wormtail, the Dark Lord would still have no body at all, and he would still be bound to this house under his father's Imperius Curse.
"Ah, Barty." The Dark Lord's voice was much higher than before his fall. "I was beginning to think something kept you at Hogwarts."
"My Lord." Barty kneeled before the armchair and kissed the hem of the blanket as he would the hem of his master's robes. "Forgive me for keeping you waiting. Dumbledore held me up. He wanted to discuss Potter's situation."
"As do I. Leave us, Wormtail," he ordered.
Relieved, the fellow Death Eater scrambled out of the room and Barty's gaze followed him until he closed the door. He sighed.
"I wish it could be me in Wormtail's place, staying here to take care of you," he said quietly.
"I cannot deny I wish that too, Barty," Voldemort admitted, casting a grim look towards the door. "So tell me, what is the situation at Hogwarts?"
"Everything is going according to plan, Master," he reported. "The first task begins in a couple of days. I found out Potter is an excellent Seeker, so I suggested he use a broom to get around the dragon."
"You suggested..." the Dark Lord narrowed his eyes, "to Harry Potter directly?"
"I know, I—" Barty swallowed nervously, feeling hot all of a sudden. "I panicked. He was running out of time. I convinced Hagrid to show Potter the dragons some time ago... And since Dumbledore is so concerned with the boy's safety, I decided it was reasonable to ask him personally what his plan for the first task was and guide him to choose the best strategy. But it turned out he didn't have any ideas whatsoever. I don't think he's even given it any thought!"
Voldemort grunted.
"The boy is arrogant. You should not assume he'll get anywhere on his own. That's not what you're there for," he hissed.
Barty flinched at the clear displeasure in his master's voice and quickly bowed his head.
"Of course, Master." His breath quickened as Voldemort shifted in the armchair and Barty thought he saw his fragile hand inching closer to where his wand lay. "Please, My Lord," he breathed out fervently. "If you wish to punish me, I beg of you, have Wormtail cast the curse. I can't bear the thought of you wasting your strength on my account."
The Dark Lord considered him in silence.
"I'm not going to punish you, Barty," he said slowly. "You are doing an excellent job. When this is all over, you will be rewarded."
Barty felt a lump in his throat. He had missed his master's precious praises over the last thirteen years.
"Thank you, My Lord," he choked out. "But my greatest reward will be seeing you return to power."
He meant it with all his heart.
"I know, Barty." The corners of Voldemort's lips lifted in a small smile. "You are my most faithful still."
Barty's heart fluttered. He wished so desperately to see his master in his former glory already. If only he wasn't set on waiting for Potter…
"What is it, Barty?" the Dark Lord asked, noticing he was lost in thought.
"No—Nothing," Barty shook his head. It wasn't his place to debate on his master's plan. "I don't mean to question you, My Lord."
"You may speak freely," Voldemort said softly. "I know you have my best interest at heart, unlike Wormtail who just tries to find a way to weasel out of the task I bestowed upon him."
Barty smirked at the statement. So the subject had been raised by his fellow Death Eater already. No doubt, Wormtail wished to be done with the job of taking care of their master, that idiot.
The Dark Lord was looking at him expectantly. He did give him permission to ask, so Barty took a steading breath.
"Are you sure the benefits of using Potter's blood for the ritual are worth staying in this vulnerable state for another six months?" he inquired cautiously.
Barty awaited his master's response with bated breath but he didn't seem angry.
"I have been in a much more vulnerable state than this for thirteen years, Barty," he reminded him. "Six months more is a small price to pay for the advantages I'll obtain from Harry Potter's blood. And yes," he added pointedly, "it is worth it."
Barty bowed his head respectfully.
"Then I will never bring it up again," he promised. "And I will do better with my mission," he declared with determination. "Next time, I'll make sure Potter not only knows what the task is but also that a solution is provided to him."
Barty left for Hogwarts with a passionate glint in his eyes. It comforted him to think the Dark Lord was right – six months was nothing compared to thirteen years. It wouldn't be long now until he saw his beloved master in his full glory once again. All he had to do was fulfill his task well – and he would, if it was the last thing he did. His master was counting on him. Barty wouldn't disappoint him.