(Ginny's Story)
by Frog-Princess
(ginny@darkcastle.com)
A/N: This chapter is very short, but I thought it was about time we have a small glimpse of what Voldemort is up to, so we'll be taking a bit of a detour from the Ginny storyline, sorry ^^; More with H and G in the next chapter...
Chapter Eight
Peter Pettigrew stared up uneasily at the twinkling stars above, wishing he were anywhere else. Anywhere but here, deep within the forest near a small, secluded cave. Anywhere but with his master.
He shook his head to clear the thought, scolding himself for thinking that way. Not because he cared for his master, not because he had pledged his allegiance so long ago, but because he knew Voldemort had the ability to peek into the thoughts of his servants at will.
"Wormtail."
Peter jumped. The voice cut through the air like a knife, and the man felt as though he'd plunged into a cold, icy lake. The tiny hairs on the nape of his neck were standing on end.
"Y-Yes, My Lord?" Peter stuttered. Don't stutter, he thought, the master can sense fear...
"Young Potter was in these very woods today," said Voldemort menacingly. "Why was I not informed?"
"I... I-I thought you knew, My Lord."
"Thought I knew? Thought I knew?" Voldemort repeated Peter's words darkly, sounding amused. "Of course I knew. I could feel his presence, Wormtail, even before Nagini announced it. I could smell it in the very air you breathe." He glared at his servant. "The point is, you did not approach me with this news. What if I had failed to detect him, and he caught me completely off guard? What if there had been a confrontation? I'm beginning to think you'd like it if your master met a gruesome and untimely end."
Peter fell to his knees, shaking his head. "Never, Your Lordship! I'd never think of it!"
"You are thinking it, Wormtail," Voldemort said. He crouched down, extending one hand, and took hold of Peter's face. "I know it. You can't hide your thoughts. You no longer have your own thoughts." Peter screamed out. Voldemort's skin burned him to the touch. "Master!" he sobbed. Voldemort tightened his grip.
"P-Please!" Peter sobbed. "Have mercy!"
Voldemort released the man, who sank to the ground in a quivering heap.
"Quiet," he hissed, hearing Peter's cries. "I have decided to bestow upon you a great honor." He laughed his chilling, mirthless laugh. "My plan must be foolproof. I cannot afford to let Potter slip through my fingertips again. And you, Wormtail, are to play the most important role."
"Yes, master," Peter whimpered between sobs.
"I understand that Potter met with his godfather today?" It sounded like a question, but Peter knew better than to answer, settling on giving a single, anxious nod instead.
Voldemort seemed to be thinking about something.
"Shall... shall I put an end to these meetings, My Lord?" Peter inquired.
"No, Wormtail," replied his master. "If we show ourselves before the time is right, the plan will surely fail, and all shall be revealed. No," he said, frowning, "this is good... very good indeed. All we have to do is wait for the right time before we strike. I wouldn't worry... I have a feeling we won't have to wait much longer."
