London was a bustling city, filled with narrow twisting streets,
shops, homes, and people. All in all, it was the perfect place to blend in,
Peter concluded. The past several weeks had been spent finding a way
towards the big city, always under the guise of the muggle. He was fairly
certain that the aurors of the ministry would not suspect him of his
treachery, but it wouldn't hurt to lie low for a while... and Sirius was
always an issue as well. He alone knew of Peter's trade, he, and possibly
Remus as well.
Peter paused in front of a small bakery, observing the bustling activity through the paned window. He could smell the fresh bread and baking pastries... and his stomach rumbled accordingly. He hadn't eaten in several days, and his once pink skin had become sallow and white. He fingered a knut in his left hand. If only he had thought to change it into muggle currency! He wasn't ready to beg. Not yet.
He forced himself to move on down the street, past vegetable vendors and boutiques, observing all the people with a disconnected kind of interest.
"Lost, sir?" A constable asked.
Peter jerked around, "Ah, yes..." he mumbled.
"Well, if you need any assistance..." The man said, touching the beak of his hat.
Peter forced his lips into a smile before continuing his trek down the winding street. He clasped his hands behind his back, hoping to look like the average peaceful passerby with no trouble in the world. A sharp tug on the back of his cloak brought him back to life.
A small girl, around four with sandy blonde hair and wide brown eyes was the culprit. She grinned up at him, and held up a small white daisy in her pudgy fist. "Flower!" She said beaming.
"Er..." Peter said, extracting the flower from her hand, "Thanks..."
"Mary, come back here!" A woman with wavy brown hair scolded. With a stern look at Mary, she turned towards Peter. "Sorry, she's a handful."
"Oh, no problem..." And then he turned away. Why did all these people have to talk to him? But he held on to the daisy, twirling it in his hand. It was an amazing thing, a flower... Absorbed with the flower he held, he did not notice his surroundings, the elderly, the laughing young, and the contemplative parents, and he most certainly did not notice the robed figure that materialized out of nowhere behind him.
"So, Wormtail..." A voice hissed in his ear.
Wormtail...no... Very few people knew him by that name. And none of them were people he wanted to meet ever again. He spun around, hand instinctively reaching for his wand.
"Scared eh?" Sirius grinned, eyes dancing. But not with delight, with something more sinister, something...not right.
"S- Sirius!" Peter squeaked. He stepped backward.
"You didn't expect to see me?" Sirius asked, that deranged grin still on his handsome face. And then his voice dropped to a doglike growl, laced with agony. "You traitor! You killed him! You killed them all.... Oh I will make you pay. You will beg for death before I'm done with you!" He raised his wand menacingly at Peter's skull. Sirius's hand was trembling with anticipation.
"Expelliarmus!" Peter cried, heart beating frantically within his chest.
Sirius flew backwards, propelled by a jet of red. An angry, almost hysterical cry sprung out of his mouth.
The once bustling street had turned a deadly quiet, and Peter was uncomfortably aware of all the confounded people. Mother's clutched their children to their bodies and couples clung to each other. And all of their questioning, fearful glances were directed at the two men.
Sirius quickly got to his feet, an eerie grin across his face. He was breathing hard, and Peter watched his old friends chest rise and fall hypnotically.
"You ready?" Sirius asked, raising his wand once again.
Peter raised his wand as well, but fear gripped him, paralyzing him.
Sirius noted this, for to Peter's consternation, he began to laugh. But it was no ordinary laugh; it was the laugh of a deranged man. "Always the coward eh? You should've known I would have found you..."
"I..."
"Going to beg for mercy?" Sirius asked, his smile widening.
"No, I..."
"Don't wet yourself now... Death can't be worse than Azkaban. You know- that's where they'll put you. Azkaban... that's the place where they put traitors, murderers, supporters of Voldemort- What can't bear to here your master's name?"
It was the mention of Azkaban that's cared Peter more than anything. Even more than the mystery that was death. "You love the sound of your own voice more than anything, more than James I'd wager." Under the circumstance that was not the most brilliant thing to say, but boldness had descended over Peter. Being threatened with death rekindled a fierce desire to live.
The smile was immediately wiped off Sirius's face, but only for a second. And when the man looked up again, he was smiling, and his eyes were bright. Too bright.
Were those tears that glittered? Peter wondered.
"I will kill you," Sirius said, with that uncanny beam of his.
Peter was about to respond with a tart reply, but the words stuck in his throat. His short-lived bravado fled, and again he stood there, trembling. His widened pale eyes swept over the motionless crowd. He could hear sirens in the distance... In an almost detached way, he turned back to Sirius, surveying the coal black hair, the glittering eyes, the pale cheeks, the handsome features, and the supernatural hysteria and grief that had rooted itself in his face. "It's your fault they died," he whispered.
Sirius's face froze, and he turned away for a moment, and when he turned back Peter could see that his eyes indeed were full of tears. "Live with that thought always, Padfoot."
"You rat!" Sirius screamed.
A plan began to take shape in Peter's mind at the mention of rats, and he smiled. "You will be the rat in people's eyes, Sirius. I will be the hero."
"And why do you think that?" Sirius asked. His voice had dropped in volume again, and was now a purr.
Peter grinned, and backed up several steps, raising his wand. "Lily and James-"He cried aloud. "How could you?"
Sirius's eyes widened as he determined Peter's scheme. With a snarl he raised his wand. "Inflatus!" He roared.
But Peter was quicker. "Excessum!" He cried. He did not stop to see how his curse played out. With cold hands he yanked out his pocketknife and sliced off one of his fingers. And then, he morphed into his rat form and scuttled into the nearby sewer drain, where he observed everything. The two curses collided, and the blast that resulted was deafening. Immediately the sky disappeared and an acrid smoke covered the street. Screams echoed and snaked their way through the smoke. And Peter the rat shuddered when the screams finally stopped, plunging the street into an ghostly quiet, disrupted only by the occasional crash of falling timber, stone, and he did not like to think of what else.
It was several minutes before he could see through the smoke. The scene that unveiled itself resembled a war zone. Fallen bodies were scattered over the ground, littered also with crushed glass, stones, and wood beams. The smell of death and smoke filled Peter's nostrils, and his eyes watered. And then, from out of the wreckage rose the familiar figure of Sirius, laughing. Standing among the corpses, ruins, and misery he laughed. His head was thrown back and he was caked with grime and blood. Yet still he laughed. And he laughed when members of the ministry's hit squad came to cart him off to Azkaban. "You know- that's where they'll put you. Azkaban... that's the place where they put traitors, murderers, supporters of Voldemort"... Sirius's own phrase, uttered only moments before. The rat smiled to itself, and then scampered down to join the other sewer rats.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ So- this didn't come out as well as I'd hoped, so I might re-write it sometime ^_^
Peter paused in front of a small bakery, observing the bustling activity through the paned window. He could smell the fresh bread and baking pastries... and his stomach rumbled accordingly. He hadn't eaten in several days, and his once pink skin had become sallow and white. He fingered a knut in his left hand. If only he had thought to change it into muggle currency! He wasn't ready to beg. Not yet.
He forced himself to move on down the street, past vegetable vendors and boutiques, observing all the people with a disconnected kind of interest.
"Lost, sir?" A constable asked.
Peter jerked around, "Ah, yes..." he mumbled.
"Well, if you need any assistance..." The man said, touching the beak of his hat.
Peter forced his lips into a smile before continuing his trek down the winding street. He clasped his hands behind his back, hoping to look like the average peaceful passerby with no trouble in the world. A sharp tug on the back of his cloak brought him back to life.
A small girl, around four with sandy blonde hair and wide brown eyes was the culprit. She grinned up at him, and held up a small white daisy in her pudgy fist. "Flower!" She said beaming.
"Er..." Peter said, extracting the flower from her hand, "Thanks..."
"Mary, come back here!" A woman with wavy brown hair scolded. With a stern look at Mary, she turned towards Peter. "Sorry, she's a handful."
"Oh, no problem..." And then he turned away. Why did all these people have to talk to him? But he held on to the daisy, twirling it in his hand. It was an amazing thing, a flower... Absorbed with the flower he held, he did not notice his surroundings, the elderly, the laughing young, and the contemplative parents, and he most certainly did not notice the robed figure that materialized out of nowhere behind him.
"So, Wormtail..." A voice hissed in his ear.
Wormtail...no... Very few people knew him by that name. And none of them were people he wanted to meet ever again. He spun around, hand instinctively reaching for his wand.
"Scared eh?" Sirius grinned, eyes dancing. But not with delight, with something more sinister, something...not right.
"S- Sirius!" Peter squeaked. He stepped backward.
"You didn't expect to see me?" Sirius asked, that deranged grin still on his handsome face. And then his voice dropped to a doglike growl, laced with agony. "You traitor! You killed him! You killed them all.... Oh I will make you pay. You will beg for death before I'm done with you!" He raised his wand menacingly at Peter's skull. Sirius's hand was trembling with anticipation.
"Expelliarmus!" Peter cried, heart beating frantically within his chest.
Sirius flew backwards, propelled by a jet of red. An angry, almost hysterical cry sprung out of his mouth.
The once bustling street had turned a deadly quiet, and Peter was uncomfortably aware of all the confounded people. Mother's clutched their children to their bodies and couples clung to each other. And all of their questioning, fearful glances were directed at the two men.
Sirius quickly got to his feet, an eerie grin across his face. He was breathing hard, and Peter watched his old friends chest rise and fall hypnotically.
"You ready?" Sirius asked, raising his wand once again.
Peter raised his wand as well, but fear gripped him, paralyzing him.
Sirius noted this, for to Peter's consternation, he began to laugh. But it was no ordinary laugh; it was the laugh of a deranged man. "Always the coward eh? You should've known I would have found you..."
"I..."
"Going to beg for mercy?" Sirius asked, his smile widening.
"No, I..."
"Don't wet yourself now... Death can't be worse than Azkaban. You know- that's where they'll put you. Azkaban... that's the place where they put traitors, murderers, supporters of Voldemort- What can't bear to here your master's name?"
It was the mention of Azkaban that's cared Peter more than anything. Even more than the mystery that was death. "You love the sound of your own voice more than anything, more than James I'd wager." Under the circumstance that was not the most brilliant thing to say, but boldness had descended over Peter. Being threatened with death rekindled a fierce desire to live.
The smile was immediately wiped off Sirius's face, but only for a second. And when the man looked up again, he was smiling, and his eyes were bright. Too bright.
Were those tears that glittered? Peter wondered.
"I will kill you," Sirius said, with that uncanny beam of his.
Peter was about to respond with a tart reply, but the words stuck in his throat. His short-lived bravado fled, and again he stood there, trembling. His widened pale eyes swept over the motionless crowd. He could hear sirens in the distance... In an almost detached way, he turned back to Sirius, surveying the coal black hair, the glittering eyes, the pale cheeks, the handsome features, and the supernatural hysteria and grief that had rooted itself in his face. "It's your fault they died," he whispered.
Sirius's face froze, and he turned away for a moment, and when he turned back Peter could see that his eyes indeed were full of tears. "Live with that thought always, Padfoot."
"You rat!" Sirius screamed.
A plan began to take shape in Peter's mind at the mention of rats, and he smiled. "You will be the rat in people's eyes, Sirius. I will be the hero."
"And why do you think that?" Sirius asked. His voice had dropped in volume again, and was now a purr.
Peter grinned, and backed up several steps, raising his wand. "Lily and James-"He cried aloud. "How could you?"
Sirius's eyes widened as he determined Peter's scheme. With a snarl he raised his wand. "Inflatus!" He roared.
But Peter was quicker. "Excessum!" He cried. He did not stop to see how his curse played out. With cold hands he yanked out his pocketknife and sliced off one of his fingers. And then, he morphed into his rat form and scuttled into the nearby sewer drain, where he observed everything. The two curses collided, and the blast that resulted was deafening. Immediately the sky disappeared and an acrid smoke covered the street. Screams echoed and snaked their way through the smoke. And Peter the rat shuddered when the screams finally stopped, plunging the street into an ghostly quiet, disrupted only by the occasional crash of falling timber, stone, and he did not like to think of what else.
It was several minutes before he could see through the smoke. The scene that unveiled itself resembled a war zone. Fallen bodies were scattered over the ground, littered also with crushed glass, stones, and wood beams. The smell of death and smoke filled Peter's nostrils, and his eyes watered. And then, from out of the wreckage rose the familiar figure of Sirius, laughing. Standing among the corpses, ruins, and misery he laughed. His head was thrown back and he was caked with grime and blood. Yet still he laughed. And he laughed when members of the ministry's hit squad came to cart him off to Azkaban. "You know- that's where they'll put you. Azkaban... that's the place where they put traitors, murderers, supporters of Voldemort"... Sirius's own phrase, uttered only moments before. The rat smiled to itself, and then scampered down to join the other sewer rats.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ So- this didn't come out as well as I'd hoped, so I might re-write it sometime ^_^
