This is a revised version of an old story. Maybe it still looks short, but believe me, it's a LOT longer than the first version of this chapter. I've added on more than 700 words! So yeah.

Enjoy!

I – Regretted Answers

October 30, 3:52 AM

The Dark Lord was not one for knocking. Or even for blasting his way in, unless he had to. Peter half wished he had done just that. Having Lord Voldemort Apparate within six inches of your face was not the pleasantest of experiences.

The fearsome face of his master peered at Peter. "You are a Death Eater, are you not?" he asked in a cold, hissing voice.

"Yes, my lord," whispered Peter, trembling slightly. "I am sorry, my lord, for not coming to the gathering last night. James and Lily invited me for supper, and I have not gone the last two times they invited me, and I thought I should go in case they got suspicious, and also I wondered if I might gather more information, and--." He was babbling, but he didn't care. All that mattered was that the Dark Lord must not kill him…

"Silence, fool," hissed Voldemort. Fear silenced Peter instantaneously. His face was pale, and he was wringing his hands. Voldemort cast him a look of contempt before continuing: "It is time," he hissed. "You will tell me their whereabouts now. The attack will wait no longer. His lips curved upwards. And it did reach his eyes. But not in a kind way, not remotely. His eyes were cold and as sharp as a knife just taken off the sharpening stone.

"M-must I, my lord?" Peter asked sadly, knowing the answer. "The way they trusted me…"

Voldemort looked at him. Just looked. "Yes, my lord," said Peter, in the smallest voice he could speak in and that Voldemort could still hear.

He started to speak, and then paused. "Lord," he asked, "could you… At least, could you spare James and Lily?"

Voldemort gave a vicious grin. "I will spare the elders, If I can," he said. "However, I believe they will be… protective. And I may have to kill them. If they do not resist, I will, but…" He let the sentence hang in the air, and finished off with another frightening smile.

Peter sighed. If Lily or James survived, they would think well of old Wormtail, thinking he had given over his life for them. There would be no danger… unless they found out he was alive. That he had rallied with You-Know-Who, the Dark Prince, the Dark Lord, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. With Voldemort. Then they would seek revenge, no questions asked. Sirius and Remus would join them. His friends… out to kill him. But he owed James and Lily that one question, at least. He wasn't ready to give them his most. His life.

What was so precious about life? The fact that you were walking, and living, and breathing, and talking, and loving? What was it about, really? Why did he want life so much?

Say it, Peter, he scolded himself. Act like the storybook heroes you're so fond of. Tell him that you'd rather die than betray your friends. He opened his mouth. Nothing came out. He gasped and tried again. This time, a single word came out: "No." It came out in a quiet, sad whimper. Voldemort did not hear.

"Tell me," Voldemort rasped suddenly. He gripped Peter by the front of his shirt and pulled him closer, until their faces were barely a centimeter away. "Tell me where they are, or I send my Death Eaters to the houses of your friends Black and Lupin. Their houses are not protected by a Fidelius charm."

Peter then saw a chance for escape. He was surprised that he hadn't thought of it before. I've been doing it for years! And now a plan began to formulate in his head. He would change into a rat (he was rarely glad of getting this Animagus form in particular, but now was the time), slip through the old broken floorboard upstairs, and escape outside. Then he would Apparate to Godric's Hollow and he could warn James and Lily that Voldemort was on the warpath, and to be careful when they went out, and could he stay with them, please, until the whole mess was over?

"I pity you, Wormtail," said Voldemort, evidently surprised by how long this was taking. "No brains at all. You can't even understand that I mean to kill you if you don't tell me. And you certainly are not understanding in the least that I, being an expert at Legilimency, can see with an incredible amount of ease into the realm of your mind. Do not attempt escape. I know all about your monthly habits when you were in school."

He brought Peter even closer.

"Tell me, Peter Pettigrew," snarled Voldemort. His nostril slits widened in annoyance, His eyes narrowed. His snake-like features became bestial. "Tell me, or I kill you."

Even in the middle of the mess he was in, Peter couldn't help being a bit triumphant. "But if you kill me," he exclaimed proudly, you'll have no one to tell you the Potters' location."

"The spell will be unraveled upon your death. Come now, Peter. Think rationally. Death for the Potters…or life with me?"

Peter faltered. He was drowning in a pool of his own hate, for Voldemort and for himself. For his friends, he felt only sadness.

What would you have done, James? Lily? he asked silently. He laughed bitterly within himself. He was already acting as if they were dead. He thought of plump, giggling Harry.

In a whisper, he told the Dark Lord everything.

Three chapters left. Still got to revise those. Hopefully I can make it a lot longer. The full story was between 1000 and 1100 words last time. With four chapters, I consider that just slightly pathetic. Hopefully I can make this around 1000 words a chapter. For me, that's a LOT!

To the bottom left, you can click on a button that gives you what I want most out of all the things in the world. :D

-ano