Disclaimer: If I was J.K. Rowling, would you give me a cookie? (looks around) Damn. No cookie. Guess I don't own this then.
A/N: This may as well be titled "First Fic." It was my first idea, it was the reason I created this account, and it has technically been in the works since September of '05. I never thought I'd actually finish it!
REGRET
By: Selene 147
Peter Pettigrew blearily opened his eyes, and immidiately shut them again.
White – all white – sky – cold. Too cold – why?
His thoughts weren't very coherent, and his head was pounding, as though he drank too much the night before. But he knew that wasn't the case. So why was the first thing he noticed the blindingly overcast sky? And why was it so cold?
Peter tried opening his eyes again, and this time he kept them open, despite the pain behind his eyes caused by the too-white clouds threatening rain just above him.
First order of business: Where the hell am I?
He tried to get a look at his surroundings --
And couldn't. He couldn't move a single inch. He tried transforming. Nothing happened.
Oh no. Don't panic. Don't panic. There's an explination for this, there has to be. Just don't start panicking, it won't do any good.
Without moving his gaze from the bright white sky, he tried to figure out where he was. He could tell he was sitting up, on what felt like metal. It was freezing. A gust of wind blew a leaf covered branch into his line of sight for a moment, and then out again.
I take it there's at least one tree nearby as well.
A lot of good that did him. He couldn't even identify the type of tree it was, let alone how to use this information to pinpoint his location. He could be on the other side of the world, for all he knew.
Ok, now would be a good time to panic – no, wait. Facts. Think about the facts. I'm sure I can figure out where I am, possibly even a way out of here, if I just look at it logically...
Facts.
Last I knew, I wasn't outside in the freezing cold, stuck in a chair, or under a tree.
He resisted rolling his eyes at himself. No shit sherlock. Useful information, that, really.
Ok... last thing I remember... The Order meeting was over, and everyone was going home... it's less than a block from my house, so I decided to walk... then I woke up here. I don't remember getting there, so something must've happened between Devil's Face Road and home... and I'm getting no where, as all of this is obvious anyway. Unanswerable question is: What. Happened.
His mind purposly avoided answering that, because he really didn't want to have to think about it.
Either this is the guys' idea of a joke, or... he couldn't finish that sentence. Not even to himself.
Deep breath. Calm. No panicking. Do. Not. Panic. If – if it isn't a joke... well... panicking won't help. I'm sure The Order will have noticed I'm gone... they'll be looking for me by now. - I just wish it wasn't so damn cold!
A thought occurred to him then.
Hang on – this is August. It shouldn't be cold at all...
Shit.
The rational side of his mind was completely forgotten.
xXxXx
Peter had no way of knowing how long exactly he'd been there. The panic had faded once it became obvious that dementors weren't going to swoop down on him, but the terror remained just as strong. Night had fallen, but since he didn't have a clue as to when he'd woken up, that didn't do him much good. Hunger was also becoming a major problem, and more than once he'd wondered why the Order hadn't found and rescued him yet. Sleep was impossible. All there was to do was wait.
Before he even realized what was happening, however, he noticed himself scratching an elbow.
The significant part of this is that he'd earlier discovered that he was under a body bind. Experimentally he tried moving a toe.
It actually worked! Haha, he could celebrate! He'd never been so excited to move a toe in his life! He snapped his head round to have a look at his surroundings.
All traces of happiness left him as he saw the reason for the lifted spell. He noticed that he was in a clearing in a forest. And standing directly in front of him was Lord Voldemort. He was as frightening as the stories said. Only worse. Much worse. And he was watching Peter with a sickeningly satisfied expression.
"How are you, Peter?" he asked, calmly. Mockingly.
Peter was trying his damndest to not vomit.
"Well? I asked you a qestion." This time there was an underlying hint of coldness in Voldemort's voice, but he was still very obviously enjoying himself.
Again, Peter couldn't speak. He may as well have been back under the spell. He was quite literally scared stiff.
"You will answer me. Crucio!"
Some remote corner of his mind, the only one not shreiking at the shock, the nails in his skin, the fact that his whole body was on fire, the complete and total pain beyond anything he could imagine, dimly noted that he may have blown an eardrum with how loud he was screaming.
After an eternity, the curse ended. Yet his entire body still throbbed painfully from it. He looked up at Voldemort again, wishing so strongly that he'd answered the first time.
I'm going to die today. I know it. Unless the Order gets here soon. Oh please let them get here soon!
Voldemort smirked. "Now, you're not going to make me do that to you again, are you Peter?" Voldemort asked, in the same cruel, mocking tone.
Peter quickly shook his head. Postpone him, postpone him, answer his questions till The Order gets here. They will get here. Answering questions won't cause any harm. Anything to not feel that. Not ever again. They'll get here!
"Good. You see Peter, I offer my followers many great rewards. It wouldn't do to cause them harm. Wouldn't you agree?"
"Followers? If you're including me in that you're even more derranged than any of us could've guessed." STUPID Stupid thing to say! What happened to postponing him?! Why must Gryffindor courage kick in when it's most likely to get me killed? He'll surely murder me now, could I be any stupider?
But Voldemort just smiled cruelly. "Not yet I'm not. I'm going to offer you a choice Peter. I know that you're a member of The Order of the Phoenix. You're one of the lucky ones. You have an opportunity to live. See, I've been looking to get a spy. Interested?"
Peter's response was non-verbal. He spat on the ground in front of him. Yep. I'm an idiot. What good can possibly come of me dying?
Voldemort shook his head. "Peter, do you really want to be on the losing side of this war? We can offer you so much more than that. We can make you get through this war alive. My Death Eaters outnumber your precious Order by thousands. Why choose death?"
"You don't honestly expect me to fall for that, do you?" He asked coldly, having finally found his voice. Hello, remember me? Self-preservation instinct? He'd never let you walk away from this situation. It's join him or die, remember that!
Peter tried to suppress these thoughts. Oh Merlin where is the Order? They should've found me by now!
Almost as though Voldemort heard his thoughts, Voldemort answered. "You know that it's the truth. Your Order hasn't saved you, has it? If they can't rescue one of their own, what makes you think they could possibly win this war?"
Oh shut up, shut up, he's wrong, they'll get here. But his body ached, the cold was getting to him, and he couldn't think clearly. He wanted to cry, he wanted this to be a bad dream, he wanted to go home, he wanted to live, and he wanted to get out of this situation without doing any harm. He just didn't see how he could. They're not here. They couldn't save me. They're not coming - It's hopeless.
"Join us, Peter. Join us and live."
"I won't." He couldn't tell anymore if he was even making the right decision at all. Why choose death?
Voldemort sighed. "Very well."
As he raised his wand, Peter clenched his eyes shut. That moment was the longest he'd ever experienced, and a hundred thoughts crossed his mind at once. Before he could hear Voldemort's curse, the last thing he might ever hear, he spoke the word he would regret for the rest of his life.
"Wait."
xXxXx
Oh Merlin what have I done?
Peter was alone in the dark of his house, a place he thought he'd never be again. It was almost sunrise, and his left forearm was throbbing, a disgusting reminder of the after-effects of the cruciatus curse. He winced in pain, still wondering if it was worth it. At the time, his encounter with Voldemort had seemed to last ages, but thinking back on it, it was just a few minutes. A few seconds, maybe. He couldn't tell. It was that damnable cold, it was affecting his head in strange ways.
Should I tell Dumbledore? Would he understand? But just then he remembered something he'd thought earlier. An undeniable truth.
He let me down. He couldn't save me.
What have I done?
xXxXx
"Hey Wormtail."
He jumped and spun around. It was just Sirius. "Hey." he replied, still trying to calm his nerves.
Sirius' face creased in concern. "You know you're awful jumpy lately. Everything ok?"
"Yeah. Everything's fine. It's just... my mum, you know. She's been really sick, and I'm worried about her." He hoped it was convincing enough.
"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that... you tell her to get well soon from me, okay?"
"S-sure. I'll do that."
Sirius smiled warmly, and gave Peter a quick pat on the back that made him flinch. "Take care, Pete."
Peter gulped and nodded. "Yeah. You too." he watched as Sirius continued into the Order's Headquarters, with a pang of guilt in his stomach. Why should I feel guilty? I'm doing the right thing, aren't I? I'm on the winning side. There's no guilt there.
He followed Sirius inside.
xXxXx
What's happened to me? I can't do this. Why, why would Sirius make me Secret Keeper? Voldemort would've known if I'd said 'No,' and that would've been the end of me. That's who he's looking for! Why did he do this to me?
Oh Merlin please let them not be home. Let them be alright...
xXxXx
No! Why did it have to be this way?!
He's going to kill me.
I have to.
I can't!
I don't have a choice!
Sirius I'm sorry!
"LILY AND JAMES, SIRIUS! HOW COULD YOU?"
xXxXx
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