Peter Pettigrew walked nervously down the deserted halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. His hands were balled into fists and he could feel the uncomfortable moisture from his sweaty palms. The source of his nervousness was right now seated in the Headmaster's office.
Earlier in the day he had been situated in his cubicle at the Department of Magical Transportation, sitting with his feet up on his desk and neglecting his work when and owl flew up to him. There was nothing abnormal about the owl, but it was surprising to Peter since he rarely received post from anyone. He quickly relieved the owl of its burden and opened the rolled piece of parchment. Peter read through the letter in no time seeing as it was only a few short lines. It was short, but the words were enough to spark a flurry of questions in Peter's head. Why would Albus Dumbledore be requesting his presence at Hogwarts at midnight? Peter assumed it had to be in relation to the Order of the Phoenix, but that was really just as strange. He usually never did anything for the Order, just sat through the meetings watching as others were given assignments. He was always jealous watching as James, Sirius, and Remus went out tracking suspected Death Eaters, although James went less frequently now that he had a son.
So Peter had spent the rest of his time at work contemplating Dumbledore's summons. And now he was walking down his old school's corridors, the place where he had learned magic, where he had met his best friends. He walked through the torchlight, just now remembering how disconcerting it was to walk the dark halls alone at night. The only sound that could be heard was the flicker of flame and the soft snoring of the dozing portraits.
As he reached the entrance to the office, he whispered the password that Dumbledore had supplied and the gargoyle sentry moved aside. Peter walked up the spiral staircase until he reached the office door. Just as he was about to knock, he heard Dumbledore's voice beckon him to enter. He turned the handle and walked in slowly, still transfixed at the Headmaster's ability to know someone was standing outside his office. Seated at his large, beautifully carved desk was Albus Dumbledore wearing a light blue dressing gown.
"Ah, Peter come in and have a seat. I'm pleased you received my owl."
Peter noticed the empty perched where Fawkes usually resided, then made his way over to the desk, taking the seat directly across from Dumbledore. "What can I do for you Headmaster?" Peter asked. "Is it Order business sir?"
"Hmm, no, not Order business," Dumbledore said distractedly. That was all he said before they lapsed into a dark silence. Finally, Dumbledore adjusted his half moon spectacles and looked back at his former pupil. "Tell me Peter, do you feel appreciated?"
"Excuse me sir, but what do you mean?" Peter inquired confused at the question.
Dumbledore smiled, "What I mean is do you feel that others respect you? Do your best friends treat you like a real friend? Does the ministry make good use of your talents?"
"I-I guess so sir," Peter stuttered.
"Really Peter?" Dumbledore questioned sounding severely skeptical. "I was under the impression that your so called friends barely even spoke to you, unless it was at Order meetings or if they needed you to do something. That doesn't sound like something that true friends would do." Peter squirmed under the Headmaster's gaze. He tried to disregard his words, but he knew what the Headmaster was saying was the utter truth. "Of course that's not really a change from your years at Hogwarts is it Peter? They only let you hang around with them because they felt sorry for you."
"That's not true," Peter interrupted half heartedly.
"Oh, it is Peter and you know it. Tell me, how did James, Sirius, and Remus finish with some of the highest marks at Hogwarts while you finished at the very bottom? Did they never even offer to help you with your studies? I would guess that they did not, but I am sure they had no problem letting you take the fall for one of their pranks on occasion."
"Why are you saying this sir? Why are you putting down your prize students?"
"Ah, there it is," whispered Dumbledore, "there is the bitterness and jealousy. Tell me Peter, are you jealous?"
"Of course I'm jealous," Peter said tightly, not even realizing he had a death grip on the arms of his chair. "James is a top auror with a beautiful wife and son and he's a member of the Wizengamot. Sirius is an auror, he's rich, and he could have any women he wanted. I work a pointless job, make enough money to barely live on, and have no family. The only one I'm not jealous of is Remus and that's only because he's a werewolf. If it wasn't for that he could do anything he wanted." Another silence passed over them while Peter wondered if Dumbledore was trying to depress him enough to kill himself. He didn't need the Headmaster to remind him his life was horrible. Just as he was about to scoop up his remaining pride, Dumbledore spoke again.
"What would you say Peter, if I were to offer you a better life?"
"I would say that I was interested sir. What would I have to do?"
Dumbledore smirked evilly. "It's really quite simple Peter. All you have to do is pledge your allegiance to the Dark Lord."
Peter sat in the Headmaster's office gob smacked. The leader of the Order of the Phoenix was advising him to join Lord Voldemort. If he wasn't sure he was awake, he would've thought that this was some strange dream. He was certainly awake.
"You want me to join Lord Voldemort?"
"No," Dumbledore answered only serving to confuse Peter more.
"But you said-,"
"I said I wanted you to join the Dark Lord. Voldemort is not the Dark Lord…I am." Seeing that Peter was about to pass out Dumbledore continued. "I have been studying and practicing the Dark Arts for more than a century and have devoted my life to them. What everyone sees when they look at me is the great Albus Dumbledore, leader of the light and great educator. All of that is just a façade, a mask of my true self. The true me loves to torture an kill, loves to use his power against others. I have managed to fool everyone, even my stupid bird, who you I am sure noticed has disappeared. The reason I began teaching was that it gave me a unique opportunity to be around magical children. Over the years I have been able to hand pick students and educate them on the value of the Dark Arts. I have my own army at my beck and call, and half of the ministry is under my influence, including the minister himself. They are working right now to put forth my agenda of pureblood superiority. Do you have any questions so far Peter?"
Peter brought himself out of a stupor enough to ask, "If you are the Dark Lord then who is Lord Voldemort?"
"That is an interesting story," Dumbledore began while absently stroking his long beard. "Almost fifty years ago, while I was still a professor, Headmaster Dippet sent me to a muggle orphanage to inform a child of his acceptance to Hogwarts. I had figured it to be just another random mudblood, but what I found was of great importance. You see, I just happened to stumble upon the Heir of Slytherin. While I had already begun teaching some of my students the art of Dark Magic, I was still looking for someone worthy to pass the majority of my knowledge to. And here I had him, the perfect candidate. He hated his muggle father, could speak to snakes, and took pleasure in the torture of the other children. It was so easy to mold little Tom Riddle into Lord Voldemort. He became my second in command. He is out doing my bidding while I sit in this school and make people believe that I actually care about their worthless children. We can offer you so much Peter. You can have money, you can have power, and you can have as many whores as you please. All you must do is one little thing."
"And what is that?"
"Just give up the Potters," Dumbledore stated seriously. "Oh yes Peter, I know. James came up with that horrid idea of using the fidelius charm on his home to protect his family, even though I tried to talk him out of it. Sirius is on assignment and a werewolf can not be trusted to keep secrets. Using some insane logic, I'm sure they thought it would be smart to make the least obvious of their friends the secret keeper. That would be you, obviously."
"Why do you want the Potters?" Peter questioned not at all denying the fact that he was the secret keeper.
"An employee from the department of mysteries came to James recently and informed him that a prophecy had been made that said his son would have the power to defeat the Dark Lord. Naturally James came to me for advice, but refused to tell me the entire contents of the prophecy. I told him that it was nothing to worry over, but he didn't believe me and came up with that troublesome Fidelius idea. I need Harry Potter dead, and I will do what needs to be done to make sure it happens. I need you Peter and I can make your life so much better."
Peter sat back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling. What was he supposed to do? Could he give up his so called friends? Why not? They used me as a last resort to be their secret keeper and they expect me to just give up my life to protect theirs. No way that is happening. "Alright, I'll do it."
"Excellent Peter," Dumbledore smiled sadistically. "Now I want you to go home and wait for Lord Voldemort. He will fit you with the Dark Mark and give you orders. All you have to do is give him a simple address and then you will be one of us."