A/N: The action to which I referred at the end of the last A/N actually
takes place in chapter 7. This chapter does have action, but not the action
you may have expected. I have written part of chapter 7, so expect it in
the near future. The flashback herein popped into my head and compelled
me to write it. This scene would not work well as a stand-alone fic. In
addition, it seems to fit well right here.
Chapter 6: Fire and Matches
The next day, Junior woke up around 5 o'clock in the morning to his alarm. He had yet to finish his Dark wizards comparison paper for Concolor. Somehow, the paper had immersed him and had never looked quite complete.
Without waking anybody else up, Junior took his bag and headed out of his room and into the common room.
The common room was quiet and quite dark. Junior took a seat in a plush armchair next to the fireplace and its roaring fire.
The first book that he took from his bag was the one that had troubled him the most. In this last volume of The Sirius Black Chronicles, he had found a particularly striking passage--Sirius' account of his battle with Wormtail in Junior's father's seventh year:
I had a feeling, standing in this deserted hallway, that if Wormtail was in this castle somewhere, then he would be behind this door. It must be from some vestige of the bond that we all used to have from our Hogwarts days. I cursed myself for still having that. Had I held onto it, or had it refused to leave me? I pushed the door open, while holding my wand up in my left hand.
I saw Wormtail from a distance. He was in the middle of the room and was, to my surprise, simply watching the ensuing battle from the window. Now, finally, was the time to take revenge for all of us. He did not see me as I approached him from behind.
I quickly took in the room. There was a large statue of Voldemort in the center of the room--not far from me.
"Wormtail," I said as I pointed the wand at his back from roughly ten meters. "I told you that I would kill you for what you've done."
Wormtail didn't flinch. He didn't even move, but he did respond. "Ah, Padfoot. That's the difference between us," he said humorlessly. "You stop at threats, but I am the only one who can bring himself to kill. "
Wormtail turned around suddenly, his metal hand flashing. "Avada Kedavra," he said calmly, and I dove behind the statue. The right arm was completely broken off. How had he turned the tables around so soon? I had him at wand point but had not responded to his sudden attack. A simple binding hex may have sufficed.
"Ha!" spat Wormtail somewhere behind the statue. "You are the weak one. You are the fool, the one who hesitates. The doubter. I am the one who has the power. Voldemort and I will conquer you, and Harry Potter, and all the others. Tonight. Here, in the glorious stronghold of Lord Voldemort himself. From the blood of you 'heroes', the reign of Voldemort will begin."
Wormtail was indeed the more powerful one. That metal hand of his had killed so many in such a short time. Perhaps Voldemort would win. I listened for noises of the battle raging outside, but I heard nothing. Ironic, how at the moment when Voldemort's life was in greatest danger, his loyal servant was not by his side.
"I'm not stupid enough to go after you," said Wormtail. "You see, you have to come out sometime." He laughed coldly. "Can't wait to get your revenge now, can you? Sirius Black, the crush of a hundred girls back at Hogwarts, now hiding like a cornered dog behind the statue of the Dark Lord himself!"
"Looks like I'm starting to resemble you then. Seeing how all you've done these last several years is hide behind Voldemort," I said through gritted teeth.
"Padfoot, Padfoot, Padfoot," said Wormtail. "The statue is merely stone. I could kill you whenever I wanted, but you can't blame me for wanting to enjoy this moment. Think of the irony. You're the one at my mercy. I am the one with the power, and the glory, and soon I will be at the right hand of the sovereign of the wizarding world."
He was obviously enjoying this. I was out of options. He was right. Maybe in my heart, I could never kill. But wasn't this necessary? Like he said, they were threatening to subvert the wizarding world to their will. So much world suffering would be prevented if I just killed him!
"Your friends are no match for him, you know," mused Wormtail. "They will all die. Voldemort's immortality is immanent. And so is mine."
What was he talking about? Voldemort only needed to kill Harry and his immortality would be secured. How was Wormtail going to obtain it?
"In fact," continued Wormtail. "I will someday surpass him. He will bow down to me. For I know how to steal his immortality, and he will never be able to reclaim it from me. There's a secret that I know that Voldemort does not, and I intend to keep it that way."
This was petrifying. With immortality, Wormtail could be even more of a tyrant than Voldemort! Who knew?
"No!" screamed Wormtail. "It can't be! "
Curiosity took over me, and I peered out from behind the statue. I will never forget what I saw.
Wormtail's metal hand was pointing itself toward Wormtail, and Wormtail was trying to resist the unseen force in vain.
"You," hissed the high-pitched voice of Voldemort. Fear filled my heart. It sounded like the voice was coming from the hand itself. "You would seek to betray me."
"N- . . . no, my lord!" said Wormtail with fear in his voice. "I was m- . . . merely fooling the enemy . . . "
"You lie!" shouted the voice of Voldemort, and Wormtail was silent. Wormtail continued to resist, and he appeared to be fighting intense pain and the desire to sob.
"NO!" screamed Wormtail, but I knew that it was too late.
"You would betray me," the cold voice of Voldemort replied. "Just as you betrayed the others before. I made you what you are, and you show me no gratitude. I have no use for you. Harry Potter and the others will die tonight without your aid."
"NO! Master!" screamed Wormtail. Then something happened that made my stomach lurch.
A metal finger pointed itself towards Wormtail's face, and then Voldemort's voice muttered something, "Incendius Fatalus."
Wormtail burst into flames and began to scream uncontrollably in anguish. Without thinking, I moved from behind the statue and moved to a spot a few meters from him, the intense heat exceeding that of anything I had ever witnessed. Tears started to streak across my cheeks, but I tried to maintain a grim expression.
Wormtail continued to scream in agony, and his arms tried to protect his face from the flames.
In a minute, it was over, and Wormtail fell backward onto the hard stone floor. He was charred black from head to toe, as were his clothes.
He lay on the floor, and I walked toward him. My wand was still up, but I did not expect to need it. I looked at his face, and it was completely charred and full of pain.
"No need to finish me, Sirius," said Wormtail. "It is finished."
"No, no," I said. "You're . . . you're not finished." Pity came over me, though I tried to resist it.
Wormtail chuckled, and I almost thought that a smile formed on his face. It was difficult to tell, I noticed grimly. "You've always looked out for me, Sirius. Pitied me and believed in me, though you never pitied or believed in yourself. Funny, isn't it?"
Nothing was funny right now. "Peter," I said, despite myself. "Why did it have to be this way?"
Wormtail chuckled again, and then coughed. "You see," he began. "I wanted to be somebody. To be important. And being Voldemort's servant made me feel important. But . . . as you can see . . . I was always nothing to him . . . and I was only ever 'somebody' to you . . . and Remus . . . and . . . James! Oh, James and Lily!" It sounded like he was trying to speak through his tears, but I knew he needed to say this. "I betrayed you all! I want to tell you both . . . that . . . I'm sorry . . . but I can't."
Then I saw Peter. I truly saw him. The shy, small boy who had admired James and Sirius and me. The one who reluctantly let us drag him into our mischief on far too many occasions. The one who simply wanted to belong--to fit in.
"You will, Peter," I said encouragingly. "You'll see them again, and it'll be . . . just like old times. Someday . . . "
"No," said Peter. "You see . . . I will not see you again when we all have died. I don't deserve it. But give them my regards."
Horrified, I realized that those were probably his last words. My feet carried me, uncertainly, closer to his dying body. My hatred for Voldemort finally consumed me. "Voldemort will pay," I said to myself.
"Perhaps," said Peter, jolting me.
"You're . . . alive?" I said with a trace of hope.
"Sirius," Peter said. "Even if Voldemort succeeds . . . there will surely be another . . . perhaps even worse . . . and then won't all this . . . all of this . . . be in vain?"
With that, Peter expired.
The tears came, and I let them. After an eternity that could not have exceeded five minutes, I pulled myself together and left to aid Harry and the others.
***
He finished the paper, and went back to sleep.
***
When he woke up for the second time that morning, Junior felt like a normal kid again. They stuffed their food down at breakfast and joked about the mirror's worthless secret.
The owls dropped the mail, and Junior didn't receive anything. However, there was an interesting article in Jenny's Daily Prophet.
Minister Clark Predicts Success for Second Wizard-Muggle Conference
Minister David Clark, a popular moderate who has been cautiously supportive of the conference to this point, has now given his full approval to the conference.
"I have full confidence now in Minister Weasley's ability to see an issue from both sides and work for the common good," said Clark. "I applaud his bold efforts and look forward to attending the conference next month."
This comes on the heels of another protest by Alicia Wilson and her protesters. While the protest was decidedly non-violent, the message appears to be stronger.
"The Muggles hate us, because they fear us," said a representative for Wilson. "This will never change. Their hatred will only grow. What will have to happen before we open our eyes to the threat?"
A popular supporter of the movement is Karen Moore. Moore's husband Richard Moore, a Durstrang professor and staunch Separatist, was killed by wizard-hating Muggles last month. The Moores are also suspected of donating to the Wilson's cause out of their vast monetary resources.
The second conference is scheduled for September 15 in London.
***
Classes went well. Spate didn't distribute any points; all the students had terrible problems with their potions. The ingredients ordered from Wizmix Potions Ingredients Company must not have been fresh upon arrival, Spate had said, and he was very irate.
Concolor looked over the papers. Junior proudly turned his in. They discussed Grindenwald in great detail, and everybody in the class knew the discussed material thoroughly.
Junior's father showed them how to perform a defensive spell: Luminarus. This spell, invented by Harry Sr. himself, caused a burst of intensely bright light that temporarily blinded the enemy. By the end of class, everybody had learned it, and they all had seen stars at one point or another.
Junior's mother introduced the students to the concept of Minimizing Transfiguration, in which one transforms one object into one of significantly smaller size. Jenny was the first person to successfully transform a galleon into a knut, though her reaction that day was decidedly more reserved.
At 8 o'clock, Gryffindor held Quidditch tryouts. Junior, Will, and Jenny made their way out onto the pitch. Junior was only mildly surprised to see that he had a great natural flying ability; he got the seeker position over a gracious fourth year named Chris Major.
Chris didn't seem too displeased. He had said that he needed to spend more time studying this term anyway.
Jenny, to everybody's surprise, possessed a pretty good natural flying ability. She took a chaser position, filling in a spot recently vacated by a seventh year from the last year.
Will got the beater position. His natural athleticism and developed hand-eye coordination had helped him with the position. Will had always been a sort of a jock.
Will and Junior's newfound status as school athletes would probably make them more appealing to the females, they had joked with each other. Like they even needed it. Will had this way of talking to and treating girls--with the exception of Jenny--in a way that made them gravitate towards him. Junior had seen the way that some girls stole looks in Will's direction. That was fine with Junior, as long as Julie wasn't staring at Will.
The week passed easily. Junior loved how he didn't have to separate himself from his two best friends for Quidditch practice. They were an inseparable bunch, and Junior didn't really ever want that to end.
***
The first game of the school year was on the second Saturday after the students had arrived. The Gryffindors would be taking on Ravenclaw, whose seeker was the object of Junior's affection--Julie White.
The whole week, Will had teased Junior about it. Eventually, Jenny got wind of it as well, and she teased Junior about it to an annoying degree. Junior felt fortunate that the match distracted him from his work and from his musings about the mysterious mirror.
***
Saturday arrived, and the whole school turned out for the match. Junior had caught snippets of his parents' Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw discussions, but even his mother had sided with Gryffindor because of Junior. However, his mother, who had lived in Ravenclaw, could have mentioned that Ravenclaw had won the Quidditch cup the previous year. Both of his parents had given Junior their encouragement and had arrived to cheer him and the Gryffindors on.
After a stirring motivational speech from Patrick, beaters Andy and Daniel gave their own short version of the pep talk.
"Make them look bad," began Daniel solemnly.
"And try to look good doing it," finished Andy.
The Gryffindors and Ravenclaws walked onto the pitch to the roar of the crowd, Madame Poole blew the whistle, and the players kicked off the ground and into the air.
After a few minutes of orienting himself to his new surroundings, Junior found himself staring at Julie. His focus was lost, and his interest in the game started to wane. She continued to scan the the entire area. Some screams were barely audible to him. It sounded as if they might have been shouting at him . . .
"Ooof!" grunted Junior as a bludger hit him in the back of his right leg. The force spun him around full circle, and he knew that his loved ones would be concerned.
"Junior! Pay attention!" shouted Patrick with irritation.
"Are you okay?" asked Jenny worriedly as she flew over to him.
"I'm fine," said Junior through gritted teeth.
"Do you want a time out?" shouted Will nervously from the field.
"No!" shouted Junior to Will. So maybe staring at the opposing Seeker in the middle of the game wasn't the smartest thing to do. He forced himself to concentrate and flew upwards, scouring the entire field as he did so. The Snitch hadn't been seen since those few seconds after it had been released. "Score?!" shouted Junior to no one in particular.
"30-30!" shouted Will to him.
Junior nodded and tried to find a hint of gold somewhere. Julie was doing the same. Suddenly, down below both of them, at a roughly equal distance from each Seeker, hovered the Golden Snitch. Both made dramatic dives. The wind in his hair and the whooshing sound he created gave him a thrill. The Snitch decided to get moving, and the chase was on.
Up it soared, and then towards the Ravenclaw goalposts. Julie continued to track it, but Junior decided to break off the trail and try to cut it off as it came around the posts. He desperately hoped that it would hook around. Otherwise, the chance of catching up to Julie was pretty slim.
Junior slashed through the sea of players in the center in his attempt to cross from one side of the field to the other. His eyes fixed on the Snitch to his right, he saw that Julie was gaining on it . . . But Junior's timing was still good. He made a sharp turn to his right, anticipating the Snitch to continue to curve around the post . . . There! It was breaking. He dashed for it, and Julie had some trouble making the sudden, sharp left turn. With a big grin on his face, Junior flew top speed towards it and outstretched his right hand. The roar of the crowd and the feel of the Snitch in his hands occurred almost simultaneously.
"180 to 30, Gryffindor wins!" announced Scott.
Not bad for his first game. His teammates rushed towards him with smiles on their faces. The pain in his leg was virtually gone. His eyes searched for Julie, who was just shaking her head at him. Her facial expression showed her obvious displeasure at losing, but it also showed that she knew she could have won.
***
A/N: The fanfic author NS said in the wonderful poem "Quests and Questions"
that "[Sirius] seeks revenge." That quote inspired the Sirius-Wormtail
scene. I suffered when writing that scene but feel pride now for writing
it.
