Peter rolled over in his sleep and woke up a bit. He rubbed his eyes and looked over to see the curtains pulled at the window and a figure gazing outside at the midnight sky. He pushed himself into a sitting position and spoke up, "Petra, what's wrong?"

"Peter, it's just you and me now. No Mum, no Da', just you and me," Petra spoke near monotone like, "You need to know right from wrong. The Ministry isn't doing anything to help anyone but themselves, and look good. And you know Dumbledore's doing the same. He favor's Gryffindor, if you haven't noticed, he's a bias bastard, that Dumbledore is. "

I know you're a Gryffindor, Peter, but imagine what it's like on the other side," she stepped away from the window and faced Peter, taking a couple steps towards him and kneeling at his bedside, "You should have been a Slytherin like me, dear brother, and you know it. The Dark Lord, however, will look past that. You're related to me, after all, and our line is pure, not noble, no, but pure. And we can purify the world, and take Dumbledore down, take the Ministry down. Mudbloods, and Muggles will be beconning to your every need...

"If you do not join, Peter, you will perish with the rest of the world who does not like the Dark Lord, those who think everyone should be treated equally," Petra let out a small laugh, "Foolish thoughts they think, they have thought wrong all this time, and you..." she stood and pulled Peter to his feet, "You can still make the right choice Peter... The Dark Lord can use you... You can help the world by joining him..."

Peter watched her for a moment. She was making sense to him, and then he spoke, "I'll do it. I'll join the Dark Lord. Take me to him."

He felt his soul be sealed away as his sisters eyes met his, a dance upon them of some form of joy as her thin lips tightened upwards. Grabbing his hand, she quietly led him downstairs and to the fireplace. Pushing him in quickly, she grabbed a handful of floo before saying, "LeStrange Estate," and throwing the floo powder down. The siblings spun amongst the green flames and exsisted into a great entry way in a large estate.

The marble floor was polished to the best that there was, and as Petra pulled Peter across the floor, his socked toes leaving small streaks behind him as his pigeon toed legs waddled his body behind that of his younger sisters. Petra had a gleam in her eye that Peter had only seen one other time in his life from her. It was the first midnight duel she had gotten into with a Gryffindor her year. She was a third year at the time, and being as ambitious as she was, she knew more spells than half the Ravenclaws two years ahead of her.

Maybe that's what attracted the Dark Lord to her, Peter wondered, his sister did get all the better genes in his opinion. Although they both had the same mouse like face, she had longer hair that framed it so it drew away from that trait. Petra was more confident in herself than he was, but she surrounded herself with people who worshipped her. Maybe because she was a Death Eater, Peter figured, maybe they would treat him the same?

"Stay here," Petra said once she had pulled him into a great room that had a couch and a few chairs sprawled across the room, a large green and silver Slytherin carpet circulated the floor beneath the furniture. Petra had pushed him into the couch and turned, scurrying away quickly as to find someone. Peter suddenly felt nervous. Why was he here again? What made him say he would join the Dark Lord?

Peter fiddled with the ends of his stripped pajama shirt, his mind reeling everything that was going on. He must have been dreaming, because there was no way that Petra was a Death Eater. She was a Slytherin, of course, but she was a Pettigrew. She was related to him. That must have somehow killed any hope for her, Peter figued, he had to be dreaming. This was all a dream.

Petra returned with a boy Peter knew to be the Prefect of Slytherin with her, Rabastan LeStrange. Rabastan nodded at Petra's animated gestures before his black eyes landed on Peter. Peter felt himself stiffen in his seat. The blood in his face ran hott as he shifted unconfortably under the gaze of Rabastan LeStrange. Rabastan turned from Petra and began to walk right towards Peter, his face never laying his thoughts as Petra's still held that joyful gleam in her eyes.

"So, a Gryffindor wishes to join the Dark Lord?" Rabstan's voice played his amusement as he watched Peter fidget under his gaze, "How do you know he's not going to be a spy, Petra?"

Rabastan's dark eyes found Petra's before she could answer, "He's related to me, Rabastan, and he's going through what I am. Nobody else is there for him truly except for myself. Those Gryffindors are only playing their part because Peter knows their secrets, knows the inside. He can be very useful to the Dark Lord. Besides, if he wishes to leave here this evening, it would be best he was one of us..." Petra paused as her eyes landed on Peter, "Or else he'll be dead."

Peter's heart raced. Petra wouldn't kill him. She couldn't. He was all she had left, as she was his. Rabastan cackled as Peter's eyes locked onto his sisters, relaying his fear and nerves. "You're not a spy, are you, Pettigrew?" Rabastan hissed, his wand drawn and pointed at Peter's neck, "Because if you are, boy, you're in for hell."

"Rabastan, enough," a chilling voice that drifted as if it were the air surrounding the three entered the room. Peter felt the chill, and fiddled his hands nervously as he noticed Rabastan and Petra stiffen, before turning around and kneeling before a dark cloaked figure. Peter guessed he was in his thirties, but the remains of a once hansome teenager were long gone, only small traces along his high cheek bones, and thin jaw line were there.

"M'lord, I was unaware you were still here," Rabastan spoke quickly but smoothly. His voice near cracking as the Dark Lord neared him.

Petra stood up quickly and crossed behind Peter on the couch, "M'lord, my brother, he wishes to join. Check his mind, see his secrets! He is not a spy. He wants to join our ranks!"

With a wave of the Dark Lords wand, Petra was pushed away from Peter as he was brought to his feet. "Aren't you the Gryffindor?" the Dark Lord said chillingly as he walked around Peter Pettigrew. "But as you know, not all Death Eaters are from Slytherin... Do you wish to join? Or do you wish to die?"

"I... I wish to join, Sir," Peter quivered out.

"I have a task for you, Peter Pettigrew," the Dark Lord spoke as he stopped in front of Peter once more. "Don't let anyone know you've joined, stay as you have been, and join the Order of the Pheonix."

"What's that, Sir?" Peter asked shakily.

"It is Dumbledore's people, they try to say that we are wrong, try to say that what we do is not allowed," the Dark Lord explained, "Get on the inside, spy on them, relay messages to me from them... I want to know their every move."

"I... I will, Sir," Peter stumbled out.

"Now!" the Dark Lord spoke loudly, clearly, the room felt like it yelled back, "Let me see your left arm."

Peter rose his arm to the Dark Lord who pushed his sleeve back carelessly and placed the tip of his wand on the forearm of Peter Pettigrew. "You are bound to us, Peter Pettigrew, for eternity."

"Thank you...." Peter said with a small bow of his head, his eyes finding his left arm quickly, the skull and snake worrying him even more, "...M'lord."