Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!
A/N: An odd little Ginny/Peter Pettigrew that I've been desperate to write for months. I hope it worked well, but you've got nothing to compare it with, because there aren't anymore! Please review, even it's just to tell me how creepy you found it - creepy is good as far as I'm concerned!
Thank you's: BonniDolle, for beta-ing this for me!
Peter Pettigrew watched eagerly, anxiously with his beady, black eyes.
He heard everything with his large, pink ears.
He twitched his nose, sniffing the air for his next feed and for change.
Hands grabbed him tightly around the middle. He wiggled slightly, not trying to free himself, just trying to get comfortable. He recognized the hands, they had been holding him for years. The hands cared for him.
'Ginny! Stop squeezing Scabbers! You're going to hurt him!' a young boy called out to his holder. Ronald, he knew immediately. He stopped squirming. Ginny was free to hold him as tightly as she liked.
'No, I'm not, Ronnie, stop telling me what to do!' she said defiantly, skipping from the room.
To Percy, his oldest owner, he was a companion. He kept the boy company when other people didn't understand him. Peter understood how it felt to be different, to not be the same as friends, family and peers.
To Ronald, his second owner, he was a pet. He was there for his amusement, something to play with and something to be responsible for. Peter understood Ronald too. He understood how it was to feel second to gifted siblings.
But to Ginny, a girl technically not even his owner, he was more than a pet or companion. He was a friend. She loved him. She really, really loved him. She stroked him and gave him treats and cleaned him. She was so sweet and affectionate and youthful.
And he loved her too. She was not even twelve, and he was a rat. But he was always watching her, waiting for her, her long flame-like hair, wide, innocent brown eyes and freckled skin. He was captivated by the way she moved her childish body with such ease. He couldn't remove her from his mind.
'Come on, Scabbers,' she said, holding him up to her face. 'Let's go upstairs to my bedroom, away from horrible Ron.' She kissed his nose tenderly.
He had been in Ginny's bedroom so many times. He would sneak away from Ron or Percy to watch her sleep at night, assessing how easy it would be to return to his human form, find a wand and hold her captive. Just for one night, that's all he would need.
He had assessed every single option in great detail. It wouldn't be too hard. The Weasleys always were far too trusting around each other. He could steal a wand from any of her older brothers, who hadn't yet learnt the importance of keeping their wands safe beside them at all times.
When it came down to it, however, Peter did not have the courage. Never had he more wished for a little more Gryffindor to display itself in him. He would blow his cover and lose her forever.
He loved her far too much for that.
He wanted to taste the slick of fire whiskey as it burnt his throat. If he couldn't have her, he could at least drown out his need for her.
But he desired her so fucking much. He couldn't get away from it. He didn't want to get away from it. It was wrong and he knew it, but he couldn't stop.
He had never felt like it before. An obsessive yearning somewhere inside him burnt so painfully. The pain was worse than the legendary sensations of the cruciatus curse. He'd trade this pain for that in a heartbeat.
Scabbers flicked his tiny eyes over the room, looking for Ginny. He saw her, that beautiful creature.
He heard her laughter as she played with her brothers. He wished he could smile as the happy sounds hit his ears.
All of his senses were heightened, as if they were specifically designed to be close to her. He would be content watching her, and waiting. He would possess her one day. His incredible little Ginevra Weasley.