Downtown London, Rodolphus Lestrange's Office
“Bloody christ on a cracker, who’se this!?” Barty said, now out of his chair completly and seemed to hover behind it, his wand going from Pettigrew to Avery. “I’ve never seen him before...I..” He paused and then made a funny screwed up face. “Waaaait a tic..isn’t that..?”
“My name is Peter Pettigrew,” Peter replied, looking rather boredly at Barty and his waggering wand. “And yes, you’ve seen me at Hogwarts no doubt. But perhaps mostly as the pititful tag along to James Potter and Sirius Black-”
“And Lupin.” Barty cut in.
“Yes, him too.” Peter said, and moved to sit down in the chair next to the one Barty was holding behind. Barty cautiousy slid to sit back down in his own chair, staring oddly at Peter, as if were a ghost or some other-worldly being that didn’t quite exist or wasn’t supposed to be there.
Varian Avery started to pull the ledgers out of the box, and placed them down on the table. He stopped only to shoot Peter a ‘shut your mouth’ stare. The reason for Pettigrew’s appearance in the office had not been planned. Varian had simply used the boy for his fireplace, not wanting to travel any other way for fear of further damaging his flora. He had taken Peter by surprise, as the younger boy was enjoying a bit of a light read by the fire, and had lept from his father’s arm chair, giving Varian a bit of a shout for that. Luckily, Peter’s mother had fallen into a deep sleep due to a bitter herb tea Peter had brewed, one with the root of a particular Goblin grown vegetable that, if not thinned out by water, could be deadly if consumed. A eyedropper full in any drink was enough to cause a long bout of deep sleep, slowing the heart to just above respitory attack. Peter either hated his mother, or had taken to experimenture in a sadistic way. He calmed himself after a moment, wiping his glasses off with a hankerchief. Varian stated he had ‘business’ to attend too, and to his annoyance, the horn-rimmed former Gryffindor seemed intent on following.
Rodolphus grabbed Varian’s arm roughly, jerking it one way so Varian had to look at him. “Why?” He whispered in a hiss, meaning Peter.
“Because he followed me,” Varian stated, and yanked his arm back, not in the mood for semantics at the moment. He was on edge and angry over what had transpired at the cottage, and he attempted to keep a semiconductive and cool exterior which was, unfortuntly, quickly cracking. “Not my bloody fault, youre wife’s the one who bloody pampers him-” he continued to whisper back.
“Fucking fantastic,” Lestrange mumbled and immediatly glanced into the box, finding that his breath caught in his throat. “Is that..?”
“Oh yes, yes it is.” Varian told him, lifting out glass container with both hands, presenting it literally to Rodolphus. The blue flower inside seemed to practically glow. “Entire intact specimens, and from you told me about that man, these can be used to drug anyone into a perpetual state of everlasting sleep, simply ont he verge of death.” Varian would of smiled, but he had nothinbg to grin about. His mind was elsewhere.
Barty looked away from Peter and made a confused look. “Its just a bloody blue flower!” He stated, looking unimpressed as he cleaned under one fingernail with his teeth.
Lestrange stared at Barty, dead pan. “A flower? This is not just a flower. This is our Lord’s newest plan.” He told him, as if dismissing Barty.
“He didn’t tell us-”
“And why would he, Crouch?” Lestrange shot back, and held the glass vile up to Barty as he walked around the desk. “This flower comes from North Asia, in a mountain range that is near impossible to climb or survive. These flower only bloom three times a year, and its chemical properties are more dangerous than acid. When used properly in certain...potions...it can be used to ensare the senses, bewitch the mind-”
“You can basically infect a person with it, especially is used as an airborn agent,” Peter Pettigrew cut in, surprising them all. They had almost forgotten he was there.
“It could be of the Deadly Nightshade family, of which two berries eaten by a child could mean death. However, it doesn’t appear to be woody, so it makes me think of Enchanter’s Nightshade, but that’s of the willowherb family...”
‘What in bloody hell is he rambling about, huh?” Barty asked, confused as hell over this. He looked at the other two, and then back at Pettigrew. “So nancy boy’s a plant man, but you’re not speaking the Queen’s English, chap.” Barty then chuckled, as if he just felt accomplished in making fun of Pettigrew.
Varian and Rodolphus both held equally puzzled yet determined expressions, staring at Peter. Rodolphus ignored Barty and then narrowed his eyes.
“Does it have a smell to it, espeically when uprooted? It could be of the Fumitory familia,” Peter went on, and then turned slightly to Barty as he pushed his glasses up on his nose more with one finger, even though it wasn’t nessesary. His nose was slightly upturned, and he spoke with a semi-nasaled voice, one he did on purpose because he felt it gave him distinction. Or rather, an arrogancey he never was quite able to master like James Potter or Varian Avery. “Which comes from the medieval Latin word meaning ‘smoke of the earth,’ where the endobodies it gives off through the boiling of the sap or steaming gets into the eyes, it causes them to water as if affected by smoke.”
“Why did you say that, just then?” Varian stated, pointing at Peter. “About the smoke?”
“Because you mentioned airborn-” Peter answered.
“Are you some kind of spy!?” Varian flat out accused Pettigrew, and whipped out his wand. “How the bloody FUCK do you know all of this!?” He practically yelled, the vein on the side of his forehead starting to pulsate.
Lestrange shot a look at Varian and immediatly knocked the wand out of his hand. “Shut..UP!” He hissed, and then turned to Peter. “How the bloody fuck do you know all of this?” he repeated the question.
“I read,” Peter simply said, and pursed his lips somewhatm,m giving Lestrange a rather arrogant look back as he arched his eyebrows. This only made Lestrange chuckle. Him chuckling only made Barty start to chuckle.
“You have use after all...what’s your name again?” Lestrange stated.
“Pettigrew.” Peter replied.
“Have you any other special talents that we’ve of yet been privledged to see?” Lestrange added, looking more the calm leader regardless of the chuckling Crouch gave off or the glares and mumbled curses Avery let out as he searched in vain on the floor for his fallen wand.
“Absolutly,” Peter replied, trying to f ight a smile that plucked at the corner of his mouth.
“And I take it you want something from me?” Rodolphus stated, now looking down at the shorter bespecled man.
Peter actually made a small half grin, half frown. “What makes you think I want anything?” He said most innocently.