DISCLAIMER
Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, and Harry Potter to J.K. Rowling. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for mine, and others, entertainment.

5 November

"Was it hard to sneak out?" Sirius asked Regulus when his brother joined him by a secluded table in the Three Broomsticks.

Regulus snorted. "Hard to sneak out of Hogwarts? You must be joking – child's play. To be honest, I know the wards of Hogwarts are supposed to be great and all – but they sure aren't preventing anyone from sneaking out. Who's to say they're any better at preventing people from sneaking in?"

Sirius frowned at the not-so-subtle jab at the Headmaster and Hogwarts' four founders. The castles wards were ancient, and had never fallen, never faltered. And they were only strengthened by every generation of witches and wizards that were taught within its walls. "You shouldn't be so quick to judge, Reg. Strength is not always obvious," Sirius said, thinking of Buffy – after all, who could believe a whole lot of power hid under her pretty façade?

Regulus shrugged. "Just calling it as I see it." Abruptly changing the subject, he said: "Have you found any solution to my problem yet? I want out, Siri. I just don't know how."

Sirius took a deep breath. He had a feeling Reg wasn't going to like what he was going to say. "I think you should go Dumbledore."

Regulus' eyes widened. "Have you gone insane?" He hissed, putting up a ward to keep people from listening in. "Go to Dumbledore? You must be joking!"

"He can help," Sirius insisted. "He's a very powerful wizard, Reg – the only one Voldemort seems to be afraid of. If anyone can help you get out, it's him."

Regulus was shaking his head. "No," he said, swallowing. "Not a chance. There's no way I'm trusting him." His eyes suddenly widened in fear. "You haven't told him, have you?"

"No!" Sirius exclaimed. "Of course not!"

Regulus relaxed slightly. "Good. You can't tell anyone about this. You never know who's really on your side."

"Isn't that a tad bit paranoid, Reg?" Sirius asked skeptically.

Regulus shook his head. "No. It's a much needed precaution. If anyone found out…" He shuddered. "Promise me you won't tell anyone."

"Alright, alright, I promise," Sirius muttered, frowning.

"Good."

"Are you sure you won't reconsider going to Dumbledore, though?" Sirius begged.

Regulus shook his head. "No. I might be desperate, Siri, but I'm not quite that desperate. Not yet, at least," he smiled weakly. "Any other suggestions?"

Sirius sighed. "No. That was pretty much it."

Regulus' shoulders slumped. "Oh," he said, biting his lip. "Now what?" He asked sadly, voice trembling slightly.

"We'll figure something out," Sirius promised.

Regulus smiled weakly, not meeting Sirius' eyes. "If you say so."

"You must stay optimistic!" Sirius told him. "We'll fix this, somehow!"

"I'm just afraid I'm running out of time," Regulus mumbled sadly.

Samantha took a deep breath. "I think we need to talk," she told Peter bravely, trying to ignore the way Peter's shoulders tensed up and the twinge of discomfort in her stomach that protested against this step. She hated doing it. She hated that she had to do it. But she couldn't put it off any longer. "We haven't had a real conversation in ages, Peter."

"I'm busy reading," Peter said resolutely, not looking up from the Daily Prophet.

Samantha bit her lip. "Did you get that job you wanted?" She said after a long silence. "The one you had an interview for?"

"No," Peter said shortly.

Samantha clenched her hands into fists, suddenly wanting nothing more than to rip the newspaper from Peter's hands and hit him over the head with it: Something quite uncharacteristic for her. "Look, Peter, things between us aren't working very well," she finally said tiredly. "You've…you've been distant, and I don't know what to do. Is it me?"

Peter looked up at Samantha at last and sighed. She looked so sad. They had been a couple for so long…but things were different now. "It's not you," he said automatically. "It's me. I've been busy lately, that's all." His mind was screaming at him to 'break up with her! Break up with her, now!' But he couldn't quite bring himself to do it.

He lived with Samantha, after all, and if they broke up, he'd have to move in with his mother. And, as much as he hated the job at the store, he didn't relish having to look for another one either. Things were easier this way, and Samantha never asked questions…until now. Suddenly, he hated her a little bit for that. Why couldn't she just let things be?

"With what?" Samantha asked.

"Things," Peter answered, looking away.

Samantha couldn't hold it in anymore. "Look at me!" She demanded, not quite yelling, but not quite calm either. "Stop avoiding things, Peter! We're having problems, and the biggest one at the moment is you!"

Peter stood up, angry as well, now. "ME? I'm not the problem, Sam! Just stop pushing!"

"I'm not pushing! I just want to know what bothers you so I can help you!" Samantha said, her voice rising a fraction. "I think I've been quite patient! I haven't said anything at all until now, but something's wrong, Peter!"

"Well, maybe you should have kept your mouth shut?" Peter snapped. "I don't need, nor did I ask for your help. Just go back to dealing with your precious store."

Samantha threw him a wounded look. "Is this about the store? Are you jealous of the store, Peter? Is that it? Because I can hire some more people if that's – "

" – The store is not the problem," Peter exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration, despite the fact that, before, it had been. "You are! You're just so…overbearing! You're not my mother!"

"Is that really what you think?" Samantha asked quietly, looking down. "That I'm overbearing?"

"Yes!" Peter said. "You didn't use to be! You used to be so…humble."

Samantha felt her eyes watering up. When had this conversation switched from what was wrong with Peter, to what was wrong with her? "You don't like my personality?" She asked. "You liked me better before? Quiet and unassuming, without any confidence, meek? Is that the kind of girlfriend you want? A shadow without any self-respect?"

"Don't put words in my mouth," Peter seethed. "I didn't mean it like that. But you act like a bitch sometimes."

Samantha jerked back as though she'd been slapped. "A bitch?"

Peter shrugged. "There are just some things I don't want to talk about, that's all. If you can't respect that, then I don't think I can put up with you any longer."

Samantha swallowed, trying to blink away the tears threatening to fall. Put up with her? Was she such a burden? Was she really the one in the wrong here? Maybe she was…maybe she really was an overbearing...bitch. "I-I'm sorry," she stuttered out, looking away. "I-I'll try to do b-better."

Peter gave her a cold look. "See that you do," he said, trying to ignore the twinge of guilt at the way he'd made her feel, and then returned to his newspaper.

Sobbing, Samantha escaped the small apartment, wondering when things had gone so wrong…where she had gone so wrong.

13 November

"Be careful," Buffy told Remus as he zipped his backpack – the only thing he'd bring with him – shut.

Remus smiled at her. "I will," he said, hugging her tightly, inhaling her smell for what was the last time in quite some time.

"I wish you wouldn't go," Buffy told him.

"That makes it two of us," Remus joked, trying to keep up a brave face. "But someone has to. And who's better equipped to do it than me?" He sounded slightly bitter.

Buffy frowned as she watched Remus disappear into the bathroom. When he came out again, he looked – and smelled – completely different. The clothes he had put on were wrinkled and washed out, with holes in a couple of places. His blonde hair had been messed up and looked slightly oily. There were dirt under his nails and he smelled as though he hadn't showered in awhile. "Tadaa," he said weakly. "Magic does wonders, doesn't it?"

Buffy looked at him sympathetically, sad that she couldn't hug him – if she did, Remus would smell of her when he arrived at Greyback's camp. He had to look as though his life had been very difficult lately.

"The mission will be over before you know it," she said instead, trying to convince both Remus as well as herself.

"Hopefully." Looking at his wand in his hand, Remus placed it down on the nightstand with a sigh. He had no use for it, where he would be, nor would its presence be welcome. He had to leave it behind.

"I'll miss you," Buffy said, voice breaking slightly.

Remus smiled sadly. His wand wasn't the only thing he had to leave behind. His heart would have to stay as well. "Likewise," he mumbled, praying for her safety while he was gone. And for his own safe return, as well.

As Remus approached the site Greyback and his pack lived at – a hefty area with caves, a lot of tree coverage, and a large open spot in the middle – he took a deep breath, trying to gather himself.

He'd told himself the only time he'd ever want to see Greyback would be the time he came to kill him. He'd promised both his dying mother, as well as himself, that. Now, however, he was here to, in a way, join him, and Remus couldn't quite stop the feeling of disgust at that.

Finally, he felt confident enough to continue, and as he came closer, several werewolves, women, men and children, all dirty and dressed in rags, came into view. Together, they formed a line around him, surrounding him, and left him feeling very exposed.

After looking around warily, Remus saw Greyback break the circle to come and stand in front of him. The feral werewolf was a large, rangy man with matted hair, whiskers and pointed teeth. His nails were long and yellowish, almost claw-like, and he looked to be stuck somewhere between wolf and human.

Lowering his head in deference, Remus barely held back a shudder.

"What do we have here?" Greyback asked in a scratchy voice, letting one of his long nails rest against Remus' cheek, before the feral wolf grabbed his jaw with a large hand, forcing his head upwards. Remus could feel his breath against his face, and barely avoided puking at the horrible smell.

Greyback cocked his head to the side and leaned even closer, sniffing at Remus' exposed throat, neck and jugular. "I know this smell," he rasped, letting go of Remus' face. "You're one of mine. And yet, you're not. Are you, Remus Lupin?"

"I wasn't before, but I am now," Remus answered, still not meeting Greyback's eyes, the picture of perfect submission.

Greyback grinned, showing all of his elongated teeth. "Are you now?" He asked, sounding faintly amused. "Why?" Suddenly, he sounded quite dangerous. "Why now, when you have never come to me before?"

"I wasn't certain I would be welcome," Remus said. "And…and my father kept me from joining you. Prejudices blinded my sight." It almost killed him, to speak ill of his dead father this way…but if it was the only way he would get accepted into the pack, Remus would.

Greyback let out a terrible hiss. "Yes…Jonathan Lupin."

The werewolves around them began to look restless, some of them mumbling disapprovingly amongst themselves. Greyback smirked. "As you can see, we are not great fans of his." He grinned toothily. "I very much enjoyed ripping his throat out."

Remus wanted nothing more than to attack Greyback in that second, but held back.

"Still, I am not convinced, my wayward cub," Greyback growled. "I don't trust you. You've been among humans too long." He spat out the word 'humans' like it was poison.

'And you shouldn't,' Remus thought. "Then I will do everything in my power to earn your trust," he said, and that much was true. "The humans don't want me," Remus said, slightly louder, his voice carrying clearly across all of the camp. "They don't respect me; they don't care about a beast like me. I've barely been making a living, and I'm tired of it. I deserve more than that. And," he swallowed, "I've realized I can no longer run from what I am."

"And what's that?" Greyback asked, eyes glinting yellow.

Remus raised his head proudly, looking Greyback straight in the eyes. "A werewolf, like you."

Greyback grinned widely. "Well, then, welcome to the pack, Remus Lupin."

14 November

Human shrieks of pain – and in some cases, joy and relief – turned into howls all across Greyback's turf, as the full moon rose.

Moony's howl was one of the loudest, as he found himself in unfamiliar surroundings, and there was something missing: His pack. And his mate. This was another pack, and he didn't like it.

Suddenly, a large werewolf, with dirty blonde - slightly silvery in places - fur, except for a grey line that ran across its curved spine, appeared out of nowhere, standing in front of Moony and began growling. Moony whimpered, head and tail lowering in submission. Alpha, his mind and senses supplied. Dangerous. Don't fight.

The werewolf kept growling, in a crouch in front of Moony, who finally sank down on his back, legs in the air, jugular exposed – the sign of ultimate submission.

Finally, the growling stopped, and the Alpha werewolf stepped even closer, and closed its jaw over Moony's throat. Moony didn't react even as the bigger wolf's long teeth scratched sharply against the sensitive flesh.

After several seconds, the larger werewolf let go and stepped back, seemingly satisfied. Waiting until a minute had passed, Moony got to his feet – and was immediately attacked by one of the younger werewolves.

Yipping in pain, as the brown-furred lycan managed to clamp its jaw shut around his right hind leg, Moony flattened his ears against his head. When the younger wolf showed no sign of letting go any time soon, and in fact, only clamped down harder, Moony's fur bristled and his ears stiffened. Tensing up, Moony threw himself forward, ripping his leg out of the younger wolf's mouth, losing a large piece of flesh and fur in the process.

The Alpha-wolf observed the scene with interest, not doing anything to intervene.

Quickly turning, ignoring the pain, Moony snarled at the younger wolf, jaw wide open, and fell into a crouch. The brown wolf snarled back and attacked: Moony was ready, and this time, it was his jaw that clamped down, clasping the younger wolf's neck in a firm hold, shaking him.

The brown-furred lycan whimpered and immediately relaxed, all cockiness disappearing. After a few more seconds, Moony let go, waiting until the younger wolf showed the proper sign of submission, before turning his back to him and halting off to lick his own wounds.

He may be new in this strange, foreign pack, but he would be submissive to no one except the Alpha. 'And that's only until we are strong enough to kill him,' a small voice in the back of his mind said. And Moony was perfectly alright with that.

15 November

"Does it hurt?" A light voice asked, and Remus looked up, startled at the small girl that had approached him shyly.

"Excuse me?"

"Your leg," the girl asked, gesturing towards the rather large wound in Remus' calf.

"A little," Remus lied – it hurt a lot, in fact, but he wasn't about to go and show weakness to anyone here, not even a child. "Why do you ask?"

The girl shrugged. "Just curious. Ev'ryone is real curious 'bout you, you know?"

Remus let an eyebrow rise. "Oh?"

The girl nodded. "Uh huh. It's not ev'ry day we get a newcomer to the pack."

"I can imagine," Remus said dryly. "Do you know who it was that attacked me, last night?"

"Ooh, yes, that was Calvin," the girl nodded wisely. "He's a bit of an arse, really. More bark than bite, very low-ranking. I imagine he wanted to show he could get one over the newcomer, but you sure showed him diff'rently." She beamed at Remus.

"What's your name?" Remus asked the girl.

"Oh, I'm Rosalyn," the girl, Rosalyn said. "I'm ten!" She held up both of her hands, fingers outstretched to show. Then she frowned. "I think."

"Well, it's very nice to meet you," Remus said. "However, are you allowed to spend time with me? Most of the pack doesn't seem to trust me yet."

Rosalyn shrugged. "They trust the boss so they must trust you. I think they're just too shy to come an' greet a newcomer." She nodded seriously.

Remus smiled at the innocent naivety of the girl. "Perhaps."

"Well, I gotta go," Rosalyn quipped, grinning brightly and waving. "Bye!" And she ran off, practically flying across the grass, her dirty skirt floating behind her.

"I don't trust him," Greyback told Voldemort sharply. "Not for a second."

"As you shouldn't," the Dark Lord answered, slightly amused. "Remus Lupin is not on our side, and especially not on yours."

"Do I have your permission to kill him, then?" Greyback growled. "I don't like spies and traitors."

Voldemort smirked. "Who does? But no, Fenrir, you may not kill him yet. If you do…I will be very disappointed, do you understand me?"

Greyback snarled sullenly. "Yes," he snapped out. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."

"Like it or not, you will obey." It was a statement, not a question. "And you should see this…visit to your little Eden as an opportunity."

"My Lord?"

"Whatever purpose Lupin has for being in your little haven, he will certainly expose the bad seeds in your little family," Voldemort explained coolly. "Anyone he seems to befriend, you can't trust, as simple as that. It will prevent any future traitors. Use him to your advantage, Fenrir – don't let your temper get the best of you."

Greyback looked slightly happier. "Anything else?"

"Yes," Voldemort smiled. "Observe him. Lupin is quite a large part in my own future plans and anything you can tell me about his personality and psyche would be a great help. You will be rewarded, of course… I believe I can easily enough come up with a raid or two you and yours would be welcome to participate in."

Greyback grinned, his elongated teeth glistening with saliva. "Your will is my law, my Lord," he said, barely able to hold back a laugh of glee.

Voldemort smirked. "As it should be, Fenrir, as it should be."

20 November

With a frown on her face, Mandy squeezed the latest sad excuse of a letter from Sirius into a hard little ball in her fist.

'Hi Mandy,

How are you? I'm fine - I'm sorry this letter isn't longer, but things are extremely busy on my end…can't explain further. Hopefully we can meet up sometime in Hogsmeade again.

Love, Sirius.'

This was just one of three 'letters' that essentially said the same thing: I'm fine, don't have time to write, hope we can meet sometime, bye.

His letters used to be long and detailed, filled with life, and the writing very 'Sirius.' But then, about a month ago, they had met up in Hogsmeade… And ever since then, his letters were so impersonal: Sirius was very short – bordering on cold - with her. At first, Mandy had been extremely worried when the first short letter arrived. Now, her worry was slowly being replaced with anger and pain.

She could understand he was busy. She could even understand he couldn't explain why: After all, he was an Auror, and probably heavily involved in the war in some other way. She could understand the need for secrets. But she couldn't accept he used that as an excuse, because it was a lousy one. Before, he'd been able to write about lots of things that had nothing to do with the war or his work.

Did he not want to be together with her anymore? Mandy could understand that – long-distance relationships weren't that easy to maintain, after all. But everything had seemed fine when they met up. And if he wanted to break up, why didn't he just say so? Or did he want her to be the one to break it off, so he wouldn't have to feel guilty?

Barely holding back a sob, she sank down in a blue armchair, throwing the crumpled up parchment into the fire of the Ravenclaw common room. Bending her head forward, her long hair hid her face from the world and covered up the tears slowly filling up her eyes.

Was it really over?

Mandy felt a twinge in her heart. She didn't want it to be.

In her own letters to Sirius, she felt pretty certain her despair at the situation had shone through. At first, she'd tried to be understanding, saying they could write about something else. But his next letter had been the same as the last – like he hadn't even read hers. Then, she'd tried an angry letter. The response…had still been the same as the first and second.

She didn't know what to do anymore.

She'd thought she and Sirius had something special. She'd thought Sirius thought so too. But now, everything was changing, and Mandy didn't know if Sirius was worth the pain and heartache.

A few weeks ago, she would have said 'hell, yes,' with no hesitation. But now… Mandy swallowed heavily. Sirius just didn't seem interested anymore. Was there any use fighting, if it seemed as though there was nothing left to fight for?

'It has just been a month,' she tried to tell herself. 'A month, and three letters. It doesn't mean anything.'

"I'll give him a couple more weeks," she said out loud, just as the portrait hole opened and Lucan stepped through.

"You'll give what a couple more weeks?" He asked, walking up to her and sinking down in another armchair. He looked thoroughly snogged, and Mandy felt another twinge.

"Are you crying?" Lucan asked, eyes widening as he took in the state of his best friend.

Mandy quickly turned her face away. "No," she snapped. "I'm fine."

Lucan frowned. "Did something happen with Sirius?"

"We're…having some problems," Mandy admitted, still not meeting his eyes. "Nothing that can't be solved, though, don't worry."

Lucan's frown deepened. "Mandy, if he's hurting you…"

"He's not," Mandy snapped, finally turning to meet Lucan's concerned eyes. That, however, just made her feel even worse. "Look, I'm tired. I'm heading to bed. Don't worry about Sirius and I. We have some issues, but we'll get through it."

"If you say so," Lucan muttered, staring after Mandy as she escaped to the girl's dorms.

21 November

"What's that?" Regulus asked, and Sirius' head snapped up and he quickly hid the latest letter from Mandy – she had clearly been in a bad mood when writing it: The letters were thick and clearly written in a haste; there were large black blobs from where she'd dripped ink, and the tone of the letter was one of frustration and anger – at him.

Sirius could understand her anger – he'd be pissed too, but he simply didn't have the time, or energy, to write Mandy a long letter. Trying to help Regulus took up all his time, and mostly, it felt fruitless. He imagined he had a lot of groveling to do to Mandy after this was over.

"Nothing," Sirius said. "How are you?"

Regulus smiled weakly. "About the same as the last time we met. I don't know how much longer I can do this, Sirius."

"Have you thought anymore about my offer?"

Regulus snorted. "Going to Dumbledore, you mean? I might as well sign my own death sentence. At least with the Dark Lord, I know where I stand."

Sirius felt rather affronted on behalf of the Headmaster. "Dumbledore just wants to help people, Reg."

"Hah!" Reg exclaimed. "If you haven't noticed how controlling he can be, you're a fool. Everything he does is 'for the greater good.' It doesn't matter if he loses a few pawns, as long as the end-result is what he calls a 'happily ever after.'"

"I don't believe that," Sirius said, frowning.

Regulus smiled bitterly. "You-Know-Who might be evil and slightly insane on the best of days, but I'd take him over Dumbledore any day. I might be struck down with the killing curse whenever I'm in his presence, but at least I'll know to expect it."

Sirius' frown deepened. "Reg, he could hide you – "

" – Hide me?" Reg laughed, sounding slightly incredulous. "From the Dark Lord? Even Dumbledore wouldn't try that. You-Know-Who has the means to find his followers, wherever we go…" He placed a hand upon the sleeve covering up his dark mark absently. "No, if I go to Dumbledore, he'll try to get me to spy."

"Would that be so bad?" Sirius asked. "You'd still be in Voldemort's service, but you'd be doing a good thing at the same time."

Regulus shook his head. "No. Spy? On You-Know-Who? You're even more naïve than I thought, Siri. That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. The Dark Lord knows everything. There is no way you could spy on him in any way and not be discovered. And then…then you're as good as dead. And I have no wish to find out howthe Dark Lord deals with traitors." He shuddered. "To be honest, I don't understand how Lupin does it."

Sirius looked taken aback. "What do you mean?" He asked. "And how do you even know about Remus in the first place?" He, along with the rest of Remus' friends had been extremely worried when they heard about the mission he'd been assigned. To now hear Remus had already been exposed was extremely worrying.

"Please," Regulus snorted. "Lupin joins Greyback voluntarily? It's so obvious he's been planted there."

Sirius frowned. Was it truly that obvious? If that was the case, then, why hadn't Voldemort done anything about it? Not that he wanted Remus to be killed, but it was suspicious. He shook his head slightly, pushing the suspicion away. Remus was a friend.

"I suppose the Dark Lord is just biding his time, waiting to strike… Because there's no way he doesn't know." Regulus mused out loud. "Or your 'friend' isn't as loyal as you think." He gave Sirius a shrewd look.

"Remus is not on Voldemort's side," Sirius defended Remus hotly, trying to ignore the twinge of doubt in his stomach.

Regulus held up his hands in surrender. "Just exploring all possibilities," he said. "I don't want you to be stabbed in the back, after all." He smiled slightly. "Not after all the trouble we went through to re-establish our connection."

Sirius relaxed a fraction. Regulus was right, he realized. He was wrong about Remus, he told himself, firmly pushing down the suspicion Sirius had been having about his friend for awhile now. But that didn't mean Regulus was wrong about wanting to look out for him.

After all, that's what brothers did.

He smiled at Regulus, who gave him a raised eyebrow in response. "What?"

"Nothing," Sirius said. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I'm sort of glad things have gone so wrong for you."

"Oh?" Regulus' eyes narrowed.

"Yeah…because that means things are going right for us, for once," Sirius continued. "I'm glad we're brothers again, Reg. Really brothers, not just in name only."

Regulus smiled, and if his smile was a bit too bright to be genuine, Sirius didn't notice.

24 November

"Are you ready, ickle little baby Peter?" Bellatrix asked, looking up from the dead corpse of a woman she was mutilating with a knife. "It's your turn." She looked towards the frightened man cowering in a corner, trying to hide his son from view. Rabastan and Rodolphus Lestrange were guarding the two with bored looks.

Peter gulped, feeling a sharp twinge in his heart. This was it. It was his turn to show that he was able to do more than just watch. It was his second raid with the Death Eaters – and boy, had he been glad to get out of the apartment. Samantha had been like a zombie since their row, and while a part of Peter was happy she was no longer nagging, another part felt extremely uncomfortable with the situation. He took a deep breath and raised his wand, pointing it at the muggle. "W-what do you want me to do?"

Bellatrix smiled sweetly. "Oh, be creative," she suggested, and leaned down to place a kiss at the dead woman's lips, which had been sewn shut with a nifty little curse. "It's so fun."

Swallowing heavily, Peter used an almost silent 'mobilicorpus' to drag out the whimpering muggle to the middle of the floor. "P-please," the man begged. "You have already taken my wife. Must you take me as well?"

"Daddy!" The boy cried, and Bellatrix rolled her eyes.

"Oh, please," she begged. "Someone, shut the maggot up!"

Her husband, Rodolphus, inclined his head, and with a silent wave of his wand, the boy's mouth was sewn shut like his dead mother's. Muffled screams of pain still escaped him, and large tear droplets fell from his eyes.

Peter refused to look, and instead focused on the father, who was pleading at the three marked Death Eaters to let his son go. Torturing children was going a bit too far for him at this point, though of course, he said nothing. And there was a small part of him that enjoyed seeing the innocence ripped away.

"Today, Pettigrew," Rabastan snapped, and Peter jumped.

"And remember, be creative," Bellatrix prompted happily as she twisted the dead woman's blonde hair into neat braids, tying the ends with conjured up bows in black silk.

Inspired, Peter, with narrowed eyes, sent off a curse that ripped the man's hair out by its roots, leaving his skull bald and bleeding. At first, he felt disgust at his own actions, but then adrenaline kicked in and he felt euphoric. He had done that. Him, no one else. That man was screaming – because of him. He was begging – because of him.

He'd never felt such power over a person before, and now, Peter glowed of it. He loved it. He wanted more.

Bellatrix clapped her hands, like a little child. "Oooh, how delightful," she almost purred. "More, please!"

Wetting his lips, Peter raised his wand again. "CRUCIO!" The man's screams increased ten-fold as he was hit with Peter's first attempt at an Unforgivable curse.

Bellatrix pouted slightly. "Well, that wasn't very creative…" She quickly brightened up again, however: "But I suppose nothing can beat an old classic. Don't you agree, darling?" She turned to Rodolphus, beaming.

The dark haired man smirked. "Indeed, you can't, my love." He bowed in her direction.

"Kill him," Rabastan interrupted, turning to Pettigrew. "We don't have all night."

"Ooh, I can see the green light already," Bellatrix breathed, eyes closed, swaying slightly on the spot. "So pretty!"

Hand shaking slightly, Peter raised his wand for a third, and final time. "AVADA KEDAVRA!" The green light hit the screaming muggle, ending his life, and Peter gasped and stumbled: The power-surge he'd felt the moment the killing curse left his wand was indescribable. He wanted more. He wanted to feel that again, soon.

Bellatrix cackled with laughter. "You liked that didn't you?" She cooed. "I can tell. It's in the eyes." She held up two extended fingers to her own pair, looking quite mad.

"DAD!" The boy screamed, blood flowing from his lips as he'd physically broken through the magical bindings on his mouth, ripping his mouth apart in the process.

"Rabastan, won't you take care of that, for me?" Bellatrix fluttered her eyes at her brother-in-law. "It might put you in a better mood. You are just so sour tonight, darling."

Rabastan let an eyebrow rise and lifted his wand, pointing it at the boy, and, without looking, sent off a spell, that slit his throat. With a final gurgle, the boy fell down in a heap against the wall, dead. "Silent enough for you, dear Bella?" He asked.

Bellatrix squealed, beaming as she stood up, walking over to wrap her arms around Rabastan and, standing on her tip-toes, she rubbed her cheek against his lovingly. "A work of art, as always." Then, she danced over to her husband and gave him a smacking kiss on the mouth. "I feel like…celebrating." She put a finger in her mouth, sucking it seductively, eyes smoky, and Rodolphus gave her an aroused look.

"You did very well, Peter," Bellatrix said without taking her eyes off Rodolphus: In fact, she pressed herself even closer. "I will make sure to tell the Dark Lord of your progress. You can go now. Rabastan will follow you, won't he?"

Rabastan bowed to his brother and sister-in-law, and then exited the building, Peter following. Once outside, it was Peter's turn to cast the Dark Mark.

"Morsmordre!"

The sky was lit up in green as the skull and snake decorated the dark heavens.

"It's time to go," Rabastan said gruffly.

Peter looked towards the house in confusion. "What about Bellatrix and Rodolphus?"

Rabastan's lips twitched. "They are…celebrating," he said, and right after that, a loud moan of pleasure came from inside and Peter blushed heavily.

"Oh."

"They will make their own escape later, have no fear," Rabastan added, and apparated away. After another second or so listening to the sounds coming from the house, Peter prepared himself to do the same, shivering, still on a high from the almost unreality of the experience.

Peter had had no idea this was what it would be like to be a Death Eater. It was beyond anything he could imagine. It was…so much more.

And he felt, truly, for the first time, like he fit in.

Published: 28/07 -10
Edited: 28/07 -10

Trivia

- The power-surge after Peter casts the killing curse is the addictive properties of the Avada Kedavra, part of the reason why I'd like to think it is labelled an Unforgivable, other than the obvious.