Summary: Nighttime + Forest + Pettigrew= need I say more?
Rating: Low R
Words: 1,241
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Peter walked through the dark forest, using the bright moonlight to guide his path. His watery blue eyes looked around him carefully, flinching as the forests' noises hummed around him. It wasn't that he was scared of this forest; no he was just slightly anxious. Even though he was a wizard, he knew these trees were all muggle so he had nothing to fear.
"Peter…!"
The blond whirled around, his thin yellow hair was practically racing to keep up with his movements as he nervously looked for the source of his name. All he could hear was the whistling wind, the sound of owls, bugs and the few snapping branches probably made from small forest critters. He released a small breath and urged himself to relax. There was nothing to fear this Halloween night except for his subconscious.
Not that his mind shouldn't be angry at him. It wasn't every day that he did something that caused his skin to crawl and his hatred to turn inward as he slowly realized what he had done. It wasn't right that he betrayed the Marauders' trust. It wasn't right that that family had to die or that he became a turncoat.
Peter jumped as the forest suddenly came alive with noises that echoed and vibrated the very mossy floor. He let out a whimper and flinched as he became aware of millions of eyes staring at him. He was fairly sure that they were owl eyes but they still caused chills to race up and down his spine. Peter shook off the feeling and continued his same jumpy pace deeper into the forest.
His master had told him that a meeting was to take place in the heart of the forest. That's who he was meeting: the man he threw away all of his friendships for. Deep down inside, Peter hated himself for doing such a thing but Voldemort promised him things that no one else could give him. He wasn't just someone's sidekick—he was important. He was needed unlike in the group of Marauders who only invited him because he was already tagging along.
"Peter…!"
Once again Peter whipped around only this time he caught a flash of red. It was a ruby red that nearly glowed in the dark forest.
"W-who's there? My lord, is that you?" Peter stuttered, swallowing the saliva that had been building up in his trembling mouth. His heart began to pick up speed and sweat broke out on his blotchy skin. No one answered him and that scared him more than someone stepping from behind a tree.
Silence simply meant that he was to be tortured until he was a scream bundle of nerve or dead. He did not want either one so he stayed in that one spot. Slowly he pulled out his wand, using his left hand to hold it seeing as one of his fingers was sacrificed for the cause. He was still bleeding but the pain was hidden by a lot of numbing ointments.
"Come out! I-I know you're there!" Peter shouted, listening as the forest fell silent. The silence beat around his head much harsher than the cluster of sound that had been trying to surround him. NO, this quiet air was drowning him now and he could hardly breathe as it rushed through his ears and down his throat.
Then there was someone stepping from behind a tree. Peter felt a small shriek erupt from his throat as he gazed upon a woman with bright red hair. He knew that woman, he knew that hair and he knew that she was dead!
"L-L-Lily, what—what are you doing here!? You're dead!" Peter shouted, stumbling backwards as the woman came forward. She continued to step closer and closer to him but he was steadily moving away until common sense told him to simply turn around and run. Listening to his instincts Peter took off in a swift run.
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His feet pounded against the forest floor, breaking branches and jumping over protruding roots as gracefully as he could so as to not fall. True fear flowed thicker than actual blood in his veins while his heart tried desperately to break through his chest.
"Peter…!" Lily shouted after him, her voice sliding between his sweating shoulder blades. Peter pushed himself faster, ignoring the clawing branches that pulled at his hair and scratched his face. He ignored the sharp pain in his ankle as he stepped down on a root and the fact that his lungs could not stand anymore running. His legs were on fire and he knew that he would never get away from her.
Peter would never escape the woman he helped killed—the friend that trusted him with their secrets and their safety. She was angry and revenge would be brought down on his head.
Peter looked over his shoulder to see how far back Lily was only to find his foot caught in a looped root. He tumbled and rolled across the ground, leaves and dirt streaking his entire body. His skidding stopped as his fat body slammed into a large tree's trunk. Immediately the roots wrapped around his wrist and the dirt slowly parted underneath him. Peter struggled as hard as he could. He pulled against the strong roots and kicked out at the dirt. He didn't want to die, no! Not like this.
Peter looked up and saw Lily standing above him. She stood there, her beautiful face cold and blank as her empty green eyes stared down at him. Hatred and anguish poured from her very essence and he could feel it pounding him harder into the cold dirt.
Two sharp branches reared up and pierced into his skin. His warm blood shot out and fed the ground, some hitting the beautiful nightgown Lily wore. Peter let out a shriek of pain as the branches stabbed into his skin more and more, going deeper and deeper until Peter could not tell when one pain started and when one flared harder.
"I'm sorry Lily! Please, I'm so sorry!" Peter shouted, his face red with his own blood that began to pour from between his plump lip and onto his flabby chin. He looked up at the woman with her beautiful face carved in such cold stone and he knew that he would get no mercy from her. The branches pulled themselves from his skin and both hovered on the top layer of his chest, the branches pressing hard but not hard enough to break skin.
"Please don't kill me Lily. Please. I am so sorry!" Peter whimpered, his bloody lips trembling and his legs shaking under the heavy dirt that now covered all of his lower body. At that moment Lily's face shifted into a soft smile even though her stone eyes spoke of no kindness.
"I am not sorry," she whispered.
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In the dead of the night a woman drifted from the woods. Her movements were slow and deliberate as she made her way down the street to the destroyed house in the middle of the block. Her face was decidedly calm as a small smile came to her face even though she was absolutely drenched in blood. It was dry, crackling with each motion but it did not seem to bother her. She stopped in front of the collapsed house and listened to the wails of a baby.
Then she was gone.
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The End
Hell hath no fury…
