Lucius
Malfoy carried Harry's exhausted body back to his cell after another round of
Cruciatus in Voldemort's throne room. Harry kept his eyes closed, trying to
keep himself from throwing up, his insides felt as though they were shaking
violently and he was feeling hot and cold in turns. His scar was still stinging
as beads of sweat and blood trickled onto his closed eyelids.
Lucius kicked the door open and
dumped Harry onto the floor. He slowly rolled over onto his back and looked up.
Lucius knelt down, his hard, blue eyes staring into Harry's face intently.
"You can't keep this up,
Potter," he said without feeling. "I'll be back for you in an hour as
usual and I suggest you tell Lord Voldemort what he wants to hear."
"Never," Harry said
without blinking.
"Why are you putting
yourself through this?" he sneered.
Harry stared back defiantly and
remained silent.
Lucius smiled and tilted his
head to one side, his long, white-blond hair hanging silkily off his shoulder. "Don't
tell me you're still hoping for your friends to rescue you?" he said, with
a smirk identical to his son's.
Harry finally had to break
eye-contact and look away, biting his lip and trying to force the images of Draco
wearing that same expression out of his head.
Lucius' cruel laugh echoed in the
tiny room. "Oh, Potter, a Gryffindor through and
through."
Harry looked back and lifted
his chin proudly. "Yes, I am," he said.
Lucius narrowed his eyes, but
kept the cruel smile on his face. "I'll remind you of that ridiculous
pride as you beg Lord Voldemort, the greatest Slytherin of our time, for
death."
"Fuck you!" Harry
spat viciously.
Lucius grabbed a fistful of Harry's
hair and wrenched him up, slamming him into the side of the stone table.
"Where are your Gryffindor
manners, Potter?" he growled, face inches from Harry's grimace of pain.
Lucius hauled him up by his
arms and pushed him onto the table so that he was lying with his back on its
cold surface. He quickly locked Harry's wrists and ankles into the chains.
"I'll see you in an hour,
Mr Potter," he said, holding Harry's jaw to force him to look into his
steely gaze.
He let go with a push and swept
out of the cell, extinguishing the torches and slamming the door behind him.
Harry lay
breathing deeply and willing his heart to return to normal. He reached up one
hand to his face, pulling the chain to its limit, and removed his dirty
glasses. He raised his other hand and wiped the sweat out of his eyes, then
looked down in shock to see traces of blood on his fingers. He tentatively felt
his scar and sighed, wondering how long his body could endure this. He wiped
his lenses on his grimy sweater, cleaning them as best he could before placing them
back on his nose. He suddenly turned towards the door, body tensed, as he heard
someone unlock the bolt and turn the handle.
Peter Pettigrew quickly slipped
inside and closed the door behind him. He walked over to Harry, pulling a
large, iron key from his cloak and unlocked the restraints.
Harry frantically rolled off
the table and scrambled backwards until he was up against the wall.
"It's alright, Harry,"
he whispered. "I'm not going to hurt you."
Harry eyed him warily as
Wormtail approached, crouching down before him so that they were eye to eye.
"I need to talk to you,
Harry," he said almost pleadingly. "I need you to trust me."
Harry's jaw dropped open in disbelief.
"Trust you?" he exclaimed. "Why should I do that when you tried
to have me killed!"
"I want to help you."
Harry searched his face
carefully for any trace of honesty. Pettigrew looked a lot thinner than the
last time Harry had seen him. His face looked gaunt and lines creased the edges
of his small, brown eyes. He looked like he hadn't slept in days, red veins
lined the whites of his eyes and there were dark circles underneath. His limp,
colourless hair was even thinner, a glimpse of sickly pale skin showing through
in patches. Harry glanced down and noticed that he kept his silver hand
carefully concealed in the folds of his robe. He looked up, trying to read the
eyes of the man who had betrayed his parents and who had been willing to watch
him die six years ago.
The eyes in front of him were
not the fearful and calculating ones that he remembered, but shone with a
wide-open honesty.
"What do you want?"
Harry asked hesitantly.
A flicker of relief flashed
across Pettigrew's face as he settled cross-legged on the floor.
"I know what you must
think of me, Harry," he said. "And I can't deny that I deserve your
contempt."
Peter sighed and took a deep
breath while Harry waited curiously for him to explain.
"I did betray your
parents," he continued. "And all I can say is that I was scared and
an utter coward. I won't insult you by trying to apologize, even though I'm
sorrier than you'll ever know, because there's nothing I can say that would
make you forgive me. I don't expect your forgiveness, Harry,
I just want to try to make it up to James and Lily in some small way."
Harry tried to keep his anger in
check as his parents names fell from the lips of their murderer. He knew that
if Wormtail was telling the truth, then this could be his only chance for
escape.
"How?" he asked
warily.
"I'm going to tell you how
to defeat Voldemort."
Harry's eyes
widened in surprise. "How do I know this isn't a trick?" he
asked.
"You don't,"
Pettigrew answered honestly. "And I would love to be able to prove myself
to you and gain your trust, but there just isn't time. Harry, listen to me, I
know the Dark Lord and I know that your refusals to die are starting to try his
patience. Soon he will snap and kill you anyway."
"What am I supposed to
do?" Harry asked, not believing a word Pettigrew was saying.
Peter reached into his robe and
pulled something out. "Recognize this?" he asked.
Harry let his guard down
completely and leaned forward in excitement. "My wand!" he exclaimed.
Peter nodded and held it out.
Harry cautiously closed his fingers around the familiar length of his holly and
phoenix feather wand.
"Where did you get
it?" he asked, looking it over in amazement.
"I stole it from your flat,"
Peter paused thoughtfully. "Actually, it was pretty easy,
there were hardly any guards at all. I wonder why there wasn't more security
around it? Surely, it's pretty important..."
Harry glanced from his wand to
Pettigrew's face, starting to believe him.
"But I can't fight everyone
on my own," Harry pointed out. "Even with your
help."
"You won't have to,"
Peter explained. "All you have to do is kill Voldemort and all the Death
Eaters will remain powerless for about twenty minutes. The Marks we bear on our
arms connect us to Lord Voldemort and he draws power from us when he needs it.
As you fight him, he will be drawing power from the Death Eaters and when he
dies the strength he took from us will take a little bit of time to return,
giving you just enough time to escape."
"So I have to duel with Voldemort
again?" he asked with a sinking heart, knowing that he wasn't nearly
strong enough to go up against his nemesis alone.
"It won't be like the last
time," Peter replied. "The wands will connect again with a thin beam
of golden light, but there won't be a regurgitation of past spells."
"What will happen?"
Harry asked curiously, part of him feeling relieved that he wouldn't have to
see the ghosts of his family and friends again.
"Remember that bead of
light that travelled along the connection? The one that you
forced into Voldemort's wand?"
Harry nodded, remembering that
horrible night when it had taken everything he had just to stay on his feet and
fight back.
"This time when the bead
touches a wand the holder will be instantly killed."
Harry felt his pulse weaken. "What?"
he whispered. "What if I can't do it?"
"You will," Peter
said with conviction.
Harry once again looked at the
wand clutched in his hand, feeling completely unsure of himself.
"There's something else I
have to tell you, Harry."
Harry looked up in trepidation.
"When Lord Voldemort says
'Avada Kedavra,' you have to say the counter curse."
"But there is no counter
curse for Avada Kedavra," Harry said in confusion.
"Not
usually, but when two brother wands are forced to do battle a second time,
there is a curse that you can evoke to cause the bead of light to be lethal to
its victim."
"What is the counter
curse?"
"Alcestis," Peter
pronounced slowly.
"Alcestis," Harry
repeated, sounding it out carefully.
"Right."
Peter nodded approvingly. "Point your wand at Voldemort as he's saying
Avada Kedavra and just shout it out."
Harry nodded his head
uncertainly and mumbled the spell under his breath a few times to ingrain it
into his mind.
"Oh, and Harry,"
Peter suddenly interrupted. "Also, I have to tell you that you must not
break the connection once it has been formed, if you do, it will kill you
both."
"Okay..." Harry
swallowed nervously.
"Don't
worry, the Death Eaters know that if they interfere, then Voldemort will
be killed too, so they won't be a problem. Also, I'll be there and I can help
if anything unexpected happens."
Harry nodded again, suddenly
feeling very overwhelmed.
"The rest will be up to
you," Peter said as he gathered his short legs beneath him and stood up. He
extended a hand to Harry when he saw that he was still extremely worn out and
sore from the Cruciatus he was tortured with only an hour before.
Harry stared at the proffered
help, waiting for a sense of betrayal to wash over him as he reached for the
hand of his parent's murderer. Strangely he felt nothing.
Peter noticed Harry's slight
hesitation as he helped him over to sit on the edge of the stone table.
"I don't know what to say
to make you trust me, Harry," he sighed. "But you have to believe
that I only want to help you."
Harry looked away
uncomfortably. "It's not that I don't believe what you've told me..."
he started slowly. "It's just that...it feels wrong to be accepting your
help...or even trusting you..."
"I understand," Peter
smiled wistfully. "Sirius was right, I should
have given my life to save James and Lily. We loved each other like family, and
you should always value love over everything...even your own life. I swear I'm
just trying to help you Harry, to do for you what I should have done for James
all those years ago."
Harry looked at him for a moment,
deep in thought. "I...believe you," he said hesitantly.
"Thank you," Peter
whispered, eyes shining with unshed tears and giving the first true smile Harry
had seen on him.
It was then that Harry noticed
how completely changed Wormtail was, not just on the outside, he could see the
man his father was best friends with beneath the haggard exterior.
Harry suddenly remembered
something Dumbledore had said to him back when he was just thirteen years old.
~*~*~*~*~*~
"Pettigrew owes his life
to you. You have sent Voldemort a deputy who is in your debt. When one wizard
saves another wizard's life, it creates a certain bond between them...and I'm
much mistaken if Voldemort wants his servant in the debt of Harry Potter."
"I don't want a bond with
Pettigrew!" Harry had said indignantly. "He betrayed my
parents!"
"This is magic at its
deepest, it's most impenetrable, Harry. But trust me...the time may come when
you will be very glad you saved Pettigrew's life."
~*~*~*~*~*~
Harry snapped out of his
reverie. He knew that he would never doubt Dumbledore again.
"Thank you," he
whispered.
Peter, throat
too tight to speak, merely nodded in gratitude.
Suddenly, the faint echo of
footsteps reached the cell door. Peter gasped, ran to the door, and looked into
the hallway.
"They're coming now, Harry,"
he said, face pale. "Do you remember the counter curse?"
"Alcestis."
"Good boy," Peter
nodded. "Don't forget, right as he says 'Avada Kedavra'."
Harry nodded nervously.
"Good luck, Harry Potter."
Peter flashed him an encouraging smile and shut the door. Harry heard the click
of the bolt and hastily retreating footsteps.
About three sets of heavy
footsteps were progressively getting louder from the other direction.
Harry quickly hid his wand in
the waistband of his jeans.
Just as the bolt was being
released on the door, Harry realized that he had forgotten to re-shackle
himself to the table again.
Lucius Malfoy walked in and started at
the sight of Harry sitting up on the table, chains lying uselessly on the
floor. Lucius rushed up to him and wrapped a hand around his throat.
"How did you do this,
boy?" he demanded.
"I...broke them," he
lied.
Lucius eyed him and squeezed
his hand tighter around Harry's neck.
"I don't believe
you," he whispered. "You're not strong enough to break iron and
you're too weak to perform any wandless magic."
Harry remained silent, praying
that he wouldn't find his hidden wand.
"Just in case you're
planning something for in the throne room, I'm afraid I'm going to have to take
these."
Lucius removed the hand from around
Harry's neck and lifted the glasses off of his face. Harry's eyes widened in
horror as his vision slipped out of focus and everything around him became
fuzzy.
"No!" he yelled
desperately, reaching out his hand.
Lucius smirked, slipped the
glasses into his robe, and grabbed one of Harry's flailing wrists. "Let's
go," he ordered, jerking Harry off the table.
Harry reluctantly followed the
blurry form of Lucius Malfoy out the door. He bent in one elbow to make sure his
wand was still there and was relieved when he felt it poking into his sweater.
Harry mentally prepared
himself, repeating the counter curse over and over in his mind as he walked on
to meet Voldemort for the last time.
