-Chapter 11-
-The End of the End-
-Peter 'Wormtail' Pettigrew-
The darkness succumbed into him, but he, never to it. His watery blue eyes blinked in and out from existence. This was it, the night, the moment of his victory. He lifted his pale hand with great unease and rapped thrice on the dark wooden door.
"Who is there?" came the voice of death.
The dumpy man took a breath so his voice wouldn't shake, but to no avail. "It i-is your ssservant m-master."
He door began to creak open. Soft light poured into the hallway and the servant threw his body to the cool flagstone floor.
"Get up before you dirty the floor."
"Ye-yes m-maser!" Wormtail stood to his full height of five measly feet, still bowing his head.
"Well . . . get in here fool."
Wormtail squeaked and entered into the glowing room. His master was alone and sitting in the throne one of his loyal Death Eaters had made for him. Peter gulped and slowly dared to raise his eyes to his master's face. The arrow of fear was cold and it pierced his heart to the very last atom. He beheld the beady black eyes fully cloaked in hatred, they were staring at the fire . . . no . . . through he fire at all of their enemies.
"Wormtail, do you realize that I was slighted by these poor excuses for wizards, these Potters yet again?" Voldemort spat out the name, Wormtail realized it held a foul taste in his mouth. The hatred burning in the master's eyes spread to his tight lips and short squashed nose. The nose was drawn up in disgust of these ignorant wizards.
"Edward Potter and his wife were stupid to not join my ranks." He let out a low grumble that only slightly resembled a laugh. "I believed I made a wonderful example out of them."
This grumble was high pitched and ringing through out the small damp room, it most definitely was a cackling hag laugh.
"But NO!" he bellowed. "Their son didn't even listen when I had a faithful wizard slit HER throat! Now I have approached them, the perfect gentlemen, and THE FOOLS HAVE REFUSED ME AGAIN!"
Lord Voldemort stood and faced the cowering bundle of a man before him. He drew out his prized thirteen-and-a-half inches of ebony and phoenix feather and traced Wormtail's features of his trembling face.
"You know what I want, servant . . ." Voldemort whispered.
"The Potters are in hiding." Wormtail gained a bit more courage when Voldemort stood up and turned his back to him.
"I know that you IDIOT!" he was shaking with rage.
Wormtail began squeaking and pleading, "B-but my M-master! I am their secret keeper!"
The tall back in front of him straightened and the head of Lord Voldemort tilted.
"I'm sorry Wormtail." His voice was still dangerous. "I didn't hear you right. YOU are their secret keeper? Why would the Potters trust YOU?"
He slowly turned and saw his loyal servant no longer shaking. Wormtail was no longer scared; he knew he had real information to finally give his wonderful master.
"The wizard called Sirius Black owled me this morning. I traveled to Hogwarts were Dumbledore and five other wizards cast me as the Potter's secret keeper. They thought I was Sirius Black because I had taken a polyjuice potion to cover my identity. James and Lily were persuaded by Sirius to make me their secret keeper. I know where the Potters lie, unsuspecting."
Voldemort's small eyes widened so large they ere an amazing two inches in diameter.
"Wormtail, you do realize that f you are sending me into a trap that EVERY single Death Eaters will be after you for murdering their master."
Wormtail gulped and nodded. "I am well aware of that."
"Where . . . are . . . they?"
~-~-~-~-~-~
Peter sat in the darkness of the Leaky Cauldron, drinking to his wonderful health. Jack-o-Lanterns were floating about the place lighting up the few wizards that had decided to come out on this dark and dreary Halloween.
Peter was cheerily guzzling down Butterbeers, letting the warm liquid slip down his throat and flow through his entire body. The warmth was always needed after meeting with his master. Peter took a deep breath and pushed aside the last tankard he would drink. His head was feeling light and bubbly, Peter snorted, fell face first into the table and slumbered.
~-~-~-~-~-~
Screams erupted through the Leaky Cauldron.
"THE POTTERS! THEY HAVE DIED AT THE HANDS OF YOU-KNOW-WHO!"
Peter jolted wake from a very disturbing nightmare, he dreamed that He-Who- Must-Not-Be-Named had killed the Potters. Peter very quickly realized this was no dream.
James and Lily were dead. He was responsible and no one knew it.
He could share his victory with no one. Most definitely not his master because his master would think HE did everything himself. When Peter had hangovers he always saw his master as a bit less grand than he really was.
Peter tuned out the wailing voices from his head, unable to sort through them. It was all things he already knew. This job had finally paid off, and tonight Voldemort would finally have to admit how valuable Peter actually was to him.
People were screaming and wailing, but Peter was also starting to detect some cheerful shouts. Cheerful shouts? Peter shook his clouded head to try and make sense of what they were saying. His head was simply too misty. He rubbed his watery eyes with his puffy hands and still couldn't make any sense out what the witches and wizards were yelling over.
A walk in muggle London had always cleared his head, so Peter decided he should take one. He slipped out the front door of the Leaky Cauldron bumping into shrouded figures as he passed through. He mumbled some 'Pardon Me's and continued into the street. It was about ten in the morning and people were jus getting out to do their shopping. Peer's head seemed instantly cleared, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his mussed robes and strolled down the street.
Peter smiled to himself; this was going to be the best day of his life.
"Pettigrew . . ." a dangerously low voice snarled behind him.
Peter's muscles tensed up, how stupid he was for forgetting that there was one other person whom knew his secret.
Sirius Black.
Peter turned, wide-eyed and open mouthed to Sirius.
"Have you heard the news?"
Fake tears welling up in his eyes Peter began, "Yes I know about the Potters. That's so sad! James and his wife and child . . ."
"Oh no, Wormtail." Sirius stood up straight, spreading his arms in a friendly way. "You seem to not have heard the wonderful news! Harry Potter isn't dead!"
The news struck Wormtail like a lightening bolt, "He- he isn't? That's - how did that happen?" Wormtail began to back away from Sirius, if Harry hadn't died . . . then what had happened?
"Oh no. When Lord Voldemort" - Wormtail flinched - " cast Avada Kedarva on James and Lily's child . . . the spell backfired at Voldemort."
Realization was pounding Wormtail's brain to a bloodly pulp. . .
"Your master is dead." Sirius spit at Wormtail's feet.
Wormtail gasped and sucked in the last breath he would take as a human for twelve years . . .
"LILY AND JAMES, SIRIUS! HOW COULD YOU!?"
Confusion spread cross Sirius's young, handsome features. Wormtail had his wand behind his back and muttered a spell to slice off his finger with. The pain seared up into his arm, 'It's all for the best, it's all for the best' Wormtail told himself.
Sirius realized what was going to happen and whipped his wand from his cloak. Before he could utter anything, Wormtail's mouth opened and closed in silent speech. The street directly behind Sirius exploded in cement, blood, and screams.
Through it all Wormtail shrunk to his truest form, a rat, and slinked away under the glaring eyes of Sirius and into the sewer system of muggle London.
(End Chapter 11)
(For anyone and everyone who has pushed that little button on the bottom left of the screen and told me how much my fic rocked/sucked.)
-The End of the End-
-Peter 'Wormtail' Pettigrew-
The darkness succumbed into him, but he, never to it. His watery blue eyes blinked in and out from existence. This was it, the night, the moment of his victory. He lifted his pale hand with great unease and rapped thrice on the dark wooden door.
"Who is there?" came the voice of death.
The dumpy man took a breath so his voice wouldn't shake, but to no avail. "It i-is your ssservant m-master."
He door began to creak open. Soft light poured into the hallway and the servant threw his body to the cool flagstone floor.
"Get up before you dirty the floor."
"Ye-yes m-maser!" Wormtail stood to his full height of five measly feet, still bowing his head.
"Well . . . get in here fool."
Wormtail squeaked and entered into the glowing room. His master was alone and sitting in the throne one of his loyal Death Eaters had made for him. Peter gulped and slowly dared to raise his eyes to his master's face. The arrow of fear was cold and it pierced his heart to the very last atom. He beheld the beady black eyes fully cloaked in hatred, they were staring at the fire . . . no . . . through he fire at all of their enemies.
"Wormtail, do you realize that I was slighted by these poor excuses for wizards, these Potters yet again?" Voldemort spat out the name, Wormtail realized it held a foul taste in his mouth. The hatred burning in the master's eyes spread to his tight lips and short squashed nose. The nose was drawn up in disgust of these ignorant wizards.
"Edward Potter and his wife were stupid to not join my ranks." He let out a low grumble that only slightly resembled a laugh. "I believed I made a wonderful example out of them."
This grumble was high pitched and ringing through out the small damp room, it most definitely was a cackling hag laugh.
"But NO!" he bellowed. "Their son didn't even listen when I had a faithful wizard slit HER throat! Now I have approached them, the perfect gentlemen, and THE FOOLS HAVE REFUSED ME AGAIN!"
Lord Voldemort stood and faced the cowering bundle of a man before him. He drew out his prized thirteen-and-a-half inches of ebony and phoenix feather and traced Wormtail's features of his trembling face.
"You know what I want, servant . . ." Voldemort whispered.
"The Potters are in hiding." Wormtail gained a bit more courage when Voldemort stood up and turned his back to him.
"I know that you IDIOT!" he was shaking with rage.
Wormtail began squeaking and pleading, "B-but my M-master! I am their secret keeper!"
The tall back in front of him straightened and the head of Lord Voldemort tilted.
"I'm sorry Wormtail." His voice was still dangerous. "I didn't hear you right. YOU are their secret keeper? Why would the Potters trust YOU?"
He slowly turned and saw his loyal servant no longer shaking. Wormtail was no longer scared; he knew he had real information to finally give his wonderful master.
"The wizard called Sirius Black owled me this morning. I traveled to Hogwarts were Dumbledore and five other wizards cast me as the Potter's secret keeper. They thought I was Sirius Black because I had taken a polyjuice potion to cover my identity. James and Lily were persuaded by Sirius to make me their secret keeper. I know where the Potters lie, unsuspecting."
Voldemort's small eyes widened so large they ere an amazing two inches in diameter.
"Wormtail, you do realize that f you are sending me into a trap that EVERY single Death Eaters will be after you for murdering their master."
Wormtail gulped and nodded. "I am well aware of that."
"Where . . . are . . . they?"
~-~-~-~-~-~
Peter sat in the darkness of the Leaky Cauldron, drinking to his wonderful health. Jack-o-Lanterns were floating about the place lighting up the few wizards that had decided to come out on this dark and dreary Halloween.
Peter was cheerily guzzling down Butterbeers, letting the warm liquid slip down his throat and flow through his entire body. The warmth was always needed after meeting with his master. Peter took a deep breath and pushed aside the last tankard he would drink. His head was feeling light and bubbly, Peter snorted, fell face first into the table and slumbered.
~-~-~-~-~-~
Screams erupted through the Leaky Cauldron.
"THE POTTERS! THEY HAVE DIED AT THE HANDS OF YOU-KNOW-WHO!"
Peter jolted wake from a very disturbing nightmare, he dreamed that He-Who- Must-Not-Be-Named had killed the Potters. Peter very quickly realized this was no dream.
James and Lily were dead. He was responsible and no one knew it.
He could share his victory with no one. Most definitely not his master because his master would think HE did everything himself. When Peter had hangovers he always saw his master as a bit less grand than he really was.
Peter tuned out the wailing voices from his head, unable to sort through them. It was all things he already knew. This job had finally paid off, and tonight Voldemort would finally have to admit how valuable Peter actually was to him.
People were screaming and wailing, but Peter was also starting to detect some cheerful shouts. Cheerful shouts? Peter shook his clouded head to try and make sense of what they were saying. His head was simply too misty. He rubbed his watery eyes with his puffy hands and still couldn't make any sense out what the witches and wizards were yelling over.
A walk in muggle London had always cleared his head, so Peter decided he should take one. He slipped out the front door of the Leaky Cauldron bumping into shrouded figures as he passed through. He mumbled some 'Pardon Me's and continued into the street. It was about ten in the morning and people were jus getting out to do their shopping. Peer's head seemed instantly cleared, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his mussed robes and strolled down the street.
Peter smiled to himself; this was going to be the best day of his life.
"Pettigrew . . ." a dangerously low voice snarled behind him.
Peter's muscles tensed up, how stupid he was for forgetting that there was one other person whom knew his secret.
Sirius Black.
Peter turned, wide-eyed and open mouthed to Sirius.
"Have you heard the news?"
Fake tears welling up in his eyes Peter began, "Yes I know about the Potters. That's so sad! James and his wife and child . . ."
"Oh no, Wormtail." Sirius stood up straight, spreading his arms in a friendly way. "You seem to not have heard the wonderful news! Harry Potter isn't dead!"
The news struck Wormtail like a lightening bolt, "He- he isn't? That's - how did that happen?" Wormtail began to back away from Sirius, if Harry hadn't died . . . then what had happened?
"Oh no. When Lord Voldemort" - Wormtail flinched - " cast Avada Kedarva on James and Lily's child . . . the spell backfired at Voldemort."
Realization was pounding Wormtail's brain to a bloodly pulp. . .
"Your master is dead." Sirius spit at Wormtail's feet.
Wormtail gasped and sucked in the last breath he would take as a human for twelve years . . .
"LILY AND JAMES, SIRIUS! HOW COULD YOU!?"
Confusion spread cross Sirius's young, handsome features. Wormtail had his wand behind his back and muttered a spell to slice off his finger with. The pain seared up into his arm, 'It's all for the best, it's all for the best' Wormtail told himself.
Sirius realized what was going to happen and whipped his wand from his cloak. Before he could utter anything, Wormtail's mouth opened and closed in silent speech. The street directly behind Sirius exploded in cement, blood, and screams.
Through it all Wormtail shrunk to his truest form, a rat, and slinked away under the glaring eyes of Sirius and into the sewer system of muggle London.
(End Chapter 11)
(For anyone and everyone who has pushed that little button on the bottom left of the screen and told me how much my fic rocked/sucked.)
