Peter pulled the hood of his cloak over his head and hovered in the
gateway, it was raining heavily outside. The sky was hidden behind clouds
of purple and black. He shivered in the bitter wind and a flower of cold
breath unfurled from the depths of his cowl; he looked out to the street
opposite him, towards a small, grubby-looking pub. A small sign hung above
the door that squeaked in the wind, the Leaky Cauldron...
Half an hour passed but Peter made no sign of weariness or boredom, he watched the pub intently, his weak, watery eyes fixed on the peeling door. His trembling hands plucked at a loose thread on the hem of his robe, this job made him nervous, it felt wrong...but if he carried it through he would receive a prize of unimaginable magnitude.
After another fifteen minutes the door open and a women with dark red hair ran out into the rain, she juggled with many bags as she struggled to open a wide umbrella. Peter started, this was what he had been waiting for; he slowly watched as the woman hurried away down the road and after several seconds slunk out of the doorway and followed her into the gathering fog...
Peter halted outside the entrance of a friendly looking cul-de-sac and watched his quarry enter a large ivy-covered house. Smiling nastily to himself Peter looked down at the name of the close, "Godric's Hollow..." he muttered happily to himself and turned to leave but walked instead into another cloaked figure, "Sorry..." Peter mumbled and tried to step aside but the other person grabbed him by the shoulder, "Wormtail?" asked a voice from inside the hood, Peter's face fell, "Ummm... Sirius, what are you doing here?" Sirius Black threw back his hood and looked down harshly at Peter, "I was going to ask you the very same thing, Wormtail...What are you doing here?" "N-nothing, Sirius...just on my way home." replied Peter, nervously licking his thin lips. "Hmmm... You don't know where you are?" Sirius asked suspiciously. "N-no, should I?" stuttered Peter in answer. "Never mind, Pete...you can go now." said Sirius more kindly, Peter said goodbye and walked past him hurriedly. He knew that Sirius would not move until he was out of sight, Sirius was like that, from the moment he and Sirius had met Sirius had been wary of him.
Peter quickened his pace, the sooner he gave his latest information to Him the better, what he was doing made him sick but he had no choice...it was him or them. But no matter how many times Peter recited that to himself he still felt wretched about doing it. Sirius knew, he must do, there had been very little trust between them at school and even less after they had left and it seemed to Peter that Sirius could read him like a book. Remus, oh Remus! Peter thought about his other friend; Remus had always been more tolerant of Peter than the other two and Peter had always been grateful, but now that could all change...
A lone tear crept from Peter's eye, what was he going to do? He was weak, Peter knew this about himself, and he had been the weakest Marauder, not only in strength and magic, but everything else: bravery, emotions...but now he had the chance to be powerful and he was terrified, terrified at what he must do to achieve it.
He turned a corner and walked down a lane with trees either side, their boughs bent over to form an arch, it was like walking down a tunnel, and at the end there seemed to be nothing but darkness... "Pettigrew?" a voice from behind made Peter jump, he span round and came face to face with a tall man in black robes, hooded and masked, "Yes?" asked Peter petrified. "Have you got what our lord asks?" asked the voice from behind the mask. "Yes." Peter repeated sounding more terrified. "Come, He is waiting..." the man said before turning and Disapparating, leaving Peter alone, he was having second thoughts...he hadn't expected to see Him in person, he certainly didn't want to, perhaps he could run? No, they would find him...he was stuck and none of his friends could help him now. Sweat and tears mingling as they fell from his face Peter Dissaparated after the man.
"Welcome, Peter Pettigrew. He will be with you in a moment." Peter opened his eyes, he was in an old house, the man who had met him in the lane was beside him, still hooded and masked, he was staring at an old oak door that stood in front of them.
Peter followed his gaze and the door opened silently, beyond was darkness, looking up at his guide Peter slowly walked towards the threshold and with a last yearning glance at the outside stepped inside.
"Pettigrew..." the voice hit Peter like a bucket of cold water; it was high- pitched and frigid, but as Peter looked into the dark room he could see no speaker. The door closed silently behind him. "You have what I asked for?" asked the cold spokesman. "Y-yes, my lord, I-I have." Peter replied shakily. "Then what is it?" hissed the voice impatiently. "I think I deserve payment..." Peter squeaked. "Payment...you think that there is payment?" jested the voice, "The only payment you will receive is your life. Now tell me!" Peter stood silently, he had been tricked, and he was about to betray his friends to this monster because of his foolishness... "Tell me! Tell me where the Potter's are! Tell me now!" cried the voice furiously and Peter covered his ears. "So..." mocked the voice, "So, Lord Voldemort looks to the greatest of Dumbledore's student for help and what does he receive? A weak child! Too afraid of his own shadow to ever be great! Well, there will have to be punishment if you do not tell me..." Peter choked on his tears, Voldemort was right, he couldn't do it, James and Lily, and they were his friends! He sank to his knees and sobbed. "Malfoy, get rid of this filth and dispose of him!" seethed Voldemort from the shadows. Another man, robed and masked appeared out of the darkness, wand pointing at Peter's chest. "No!" Peter cried, "I will tell you what you want, just-just don't hurt me!" Malfoy halted and lowered his wand disappointedly, there were footsteps from the other side of the room and a figure walked into Peter's view, robed in long black robes and hooded so deeply that no face could be seen; Lord Voldemort rose one black gloved hand and pulled Peter to his feet, the grip was like iron. "Well done, Peter, you shall be rewarded... once the Potter's are dead..."
"Yes, my lord...thank-you, my lord..." whispered Peter sinking to the ground to kiss the hem of Voldemort's robe.
Half an hour passed but Peter made no sign of weariness or boredom, he watched the pub intently, his weak, watery eyes fixed on the peeling door. His trembling hands plucked at a loose thread on the hem of his robe, this job made him nervous, it felt wrong...but if he carried it through he would receive a prize of unimaginable magnitude.
After another fifteen minutes the door open and a women with dark red hair ran out into the rain, she juggled with many bags as she struggled to open a wide umbrella. Peter started, this was what he had been waiting for; he slowly watched as the woman hurried away down the road and after several seconds slunk out of the doorway and followed her into the gathering fog...
Peter halted outside the entrance of a friendly looking cul-de-sac and watched his quarry enter a large ivy-covered house. Smiling nastily to himself Peter looked down at the name of the close, "Godric's Hollow..." he muttered happily to himself and turned to leave but walked instead into another cloaked figure, "Sorry..." Peter mumbled and tried to step aside but the other person grabbed him by the shoulder, "Wormtail?" asked a voice from inside the hood, Peter's face fell, "Ummm... Sirius, what are you doing here?" Sirius Black threw back his hood and looked down harshly at Peter, "I was going to ask you the very same thing, Wormtail...What are you doing here?" "N-nothing, Sirius...just on my way home." replied Peter, nervously licking his thin lips. "Hmmm... You don't know where you are?" Sirius asked suspiciously. "N-no, should I?" stuttered Peter in answer. "Never mind, Pete...you can go now." said Sirius more kindly, Peter said goodbye and walked past him hurriedly. He knew that Sirius would not move until he was out of sight, Sirius was like that, from the moment he and Sirius had met Sirius had been wary of him.
Peter quickened his pace, the sooner he gave his latest information to Him the better, what he was doing made him sick but he had no choice...it was him or them. But no matter how many times Peter recited that to himself he still felt wretched about doing it. Sirius knew, he must do, there had been very little trust between them at school and even less after they had left and it seemed to Peter that Sirius could read him like a book. Remus, oh Remus! Peter thought about his other friend; Remus had always been more tolerant of Peter than the other two and Peter had always been grateful, but now that could all change...
A lone tear crept from Peter's eye, what was he going to do? He was weak, Peter knew this about himself, and he had been the weakest Marauder, not only in strength and magic, but everything else: bravery, emotions...but now he had the chance to be powerful and he was terrified, terrified at what he must do to achieve it.
He turned a corner and walked down a lane with trees either side, their boughs bent over to form an arch, it was like walking down a tunnel, and at the end there seemed to be nothing but darkness... "Pettigrew?" a voice from behind made Peter jump, he span round and came face to face with a tall man in black robes, hooded and masked, "Yes?" asked Peter petrified. "Have you got what our lord asks?" asked the voice from behind the mask. "Yes." Peter repeated sounding more terrified. "Come, He is waiting..." the man said before turning and Disapparating, leaving Peter alone, he was having second thoughts...he hadn't expected to see Him in person, he certainly didn't want to, perhaps he could run? No, they would find him...he was stuck and none of his friends could help him now. Sweat and tears mingling as they fell from his face Peter Dissaparated after the man.
"Welcome, Peter Pettigrew. He will be with you in a moment." Peter opened his eyes, he was in an old house, the man who had met him in the lane was beside him, still hooded and masked, he was staring at an old oak door that stood in front of them.
Peter followed his gaze and the door opened silently, beyond was darkness, looking up at his guide Peter slowly walked towards the threshold and with a last yearning glance at the outside stepped inside.
"Pettigrew..." the voice hit Peter like a bucket of cold water; it was high- pitched and frigid, but as Peter looked into the dark room he could see no speaker. The door closed silently behind him. "You have what I asked for?" asked the cold spokesman. "Y-yes, my lord, I-I have." Peter replied shakily. "Then what is it?" hissed the voice impatiently. "I think I deserve payment..." Peter squeaked. "Payment...you think that there is payment?" jested the voice, "The only payment you will receive is your life. Now tell me!" Peter stood silently, he had been tricked, and he was about to betray his friends to this monster because of his foolishness... "Tell me! Tell me where the Potter's are! Tell me now!" cried the voice furiously and Peter covered his ears. "So..." mocked the voice, "So, Lord Voldemort looks to the greatest of Dumbledore's student for help and what does he receive? A weak child! Too afraid of his own shadow to ever be great! Well, there will have to be punishment if you do not tell me..." Peter choked on his tears, Voldemort was right, he couldn't do it, James and Lily, and they were his friends! He sank to his knees and sobbed. "Malfoy, get rid of this filth and dispose of him!" seethed Voldemort from the shadows. Another man, robed and masked appeared out of the darkness, wand pointing at Peter's chest. "No!" Peter cried, "I will tell you what you want, just-just don't hurt me!" Malfoy halted and lowered his wand disappointedly, there were footsteps from the other side of the room and a figure walked into Peter's view, robed in long black robes and hooded so deeply that no face could be seen; Lord Voldemort rose one black gloved hand and pulled Peter to his feet, the grip was like iron. "Well done, Peter, you shall be rewarded... once the Potter's are dead..."
"Yes, my lord...thank-you, my lord..." whispered Peter sinking to the ground to kiss the hem of Voldemort's robe.