Author's Note: I know it's been a long time between updates, but I've been really busy and also came down with a bad case of writer's block. This chapter is taking the story in a new direction, and I had no idea what was going to happen when I started writing it. Enjoy and REVIEW! Thanks.
----------
Peter could not believe his rotten luck. All he had wanted was a little midnight snack. Naturally, he snuck down to the kitchens. But what he couldn't understand was why he had nicked James's Invisibility Cloak instead of transforming. Maybe spending so much time with James and Sirius had made him more reckless. Maybe he thought using his rat form was too easy.
The fact remained, however, that on the return journey to Gryffindor tower he had tripped over the statue of the Rum Baron, a jolly fourteenth century warlock, and the Invisibility Cloak had slipped from his body. The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, who was a formidable woman by the name of Remolina de la Muerte, had been passing through the corridor at just that time, curse his luck, and had seen him. She had promptly assigned him detention with Hagrid the following Tuesday.
This would normally have been cause for a bit of celebration—better Hagrid than the caretaker Argus Filch, who would be more likely to hang you by your ears from the ceiling—except that Professor de la Muerte had assigned Severus Snape detention for the very same night. Peter had never gotten very involved in his friends' rivalry with the Slytherin, but even so the prospect of spending an entire detention with him did not make him very happy.
Hagrid was waiting for them outside his hut; Peter was the first to arrive. He noticed that the gigantic gamekeeper was carrying a pink umbrella and a crossbow under his arm. "Hullo, Hagrid!" Peter called in his rather squeaky voice. "Are we... what are we doing tonight?"
"We'll be goin' into the Forbidden Forest," Hagrid replied unconcernedly. "Got a coupla strange goings-on I'd like ter check out, an' Poppy wants me ter get some hellebore while we're at it. Say, Peter, where's yer pals? I'd've thought fer sure they'd've got detention too?"
"I was just wondering that myself, Pettigrew," came a quiet, silky voice. Severus Snape seemed to have materialized out of the darkness, his face still concealed in shadows. "Did your friends abandon you to the Dragon? Not very good friends, are they?"
"Shut up, Snivellus," Peter said angrily. "I was out on my own. James, Sirius, and Remus had nothing to do with anything, they were sound asleep."
"Now, now, boys," Hagrid said, sounding slightly worried. "Quit arguin'. Severus, we're goin' into th' forest tonight, so you boys'll have ter stick together, okay?"
Both boys nodded sullenly. A trip into the Forbidden Forest was no laughing matter, and when Hagrid said 'stick together' he didn't mean it lightly. Peter, of course, had been in the forest plenty of times, but he had always been with his friends, and now he was no longer accompanied by them he wasn't feeling quite so confident as he stared at the austere blackness behind Hagrid's hut.
"Well, le's go then," Hagrid announced. Severis cast a glance at Peter, his expression unreadable. Peter looked away nervously, then followed Hagrid as he strolled off into the Forbidden Forest.
"What are these 'strange goings-on' you told me about, Hagrid?" Peter asked as he stepped over a fallen log in the path.
"Nothin' serious, mind, so don't worry yer heads about it," Hagrid replied. "But I been tryin' to breed a herd o' thestrals, and somethin's bin upsetting 'em. No idea what, though."
"Thestrals?" Severus asked curtly. "Aren't those...?"
"Yeah, winged horses. Yeh prob'ly won't be able ter see 'em, they're only visible to... people who've seen death. So, unless yeh've... well..." Hagrid trailed off, then shrugged. "Er, we better get goin'. It's already pretty late."
Severus and Peter followed Hagrid down the path, ducking under tree branches and tripping over roots. Shrubbery caught at their clothes, pulling them back; it was almost as if the forest was trying to repel them. If so, Peter thought, it was putting up a jolly good fight, unfortunately for his robes. He wasn't much good at sewing, he'd have to ask someone else to do it for him...
James probably would. Of all Peter's friends, James was the nicest. Remus was okay, but Sirius mainly just scared him, scared him and mocked him. James might say it was only teasing, but Peter was always hypersensitive to that sort of thing. Well, he was sensitive, period. Easily roused emotionally, Peter often couldn't contain himself when gleeful or depressed. He knew it disgusted Sirius, and so tried to control himself, but it was so difficult. He rarely succeeded.
As they penetrated further and further into the forest, the trees grew thicker and darker around them until the treetops closed completely above them, blocking out the stars. Without any light at all, the forest seemed even more sinister than before, but Hagrid would not allow them to light their wands. "Too dangerous," he'd growled when Peter asked him. Neither had the nerve to ask the gamekeeper what he'd meant by that.
Severus seemed almost as nervous as Peter, which was good, as he didn't pester the smaller boy as he might have normally. He kept jumping at every little noise and had his wand out in front of him like a sword. He seemed equally embarrassed at being frightened, though, and eventually began to take this out on Peter.
"Your friends are a bunch of poufs," he hissed as they fell behind Hagrid to disentangle themselves from the undergrowth. "Why do you hang out with them anyway? Are you queer too?"
"No! I hang out with them because... because, well, they're my friends, that's why!" Peter said defensively.
"Bet it gives you a thrill to be around such popular people, Pettigrew," Severus sneered. "Makes it possible to believe you're popular as well, eh? You're lucky James is such an arrogant twit, likes to be constantly watched... I've seen you, you worship him, Pettigrew. It's pathetic."
"I—I don't worship him, Snivellus!" Peter hissed back angrily, tugging at his robes. The branches tore through the fabric, leaving him with several more reasons to 'worship' James, as the Slytherin git was suggesting. "I don't! I just..."
"You just follow around anybody with power, Pettigrew. You make me sick," Severus said, his expression one of pure disgust as he pulled his own robes free. "You'll end up following You-Know-Who if you don't watch out, rat."
Peter hurried to catch up with Hagrid, stumbling over a tree root, wondering about what Severus had just said. Could he possibly know...? But he couldn't, he just couldn't. No one knew. No one could know, they'd been so careful... but what if he did? They were going to have to be more careful from now on.
Suddenly, they reached a clearing, and Hagrid stopped. Drawing from one of the pockets of his enormous mole-skin coat a limp form—possibly a rabbit—he dropped it to the ground, then emitted a loud shrieking cry. They waited several minutes, but Peter couldn't see that anything was happening.
Severus Snape, however, saw altogether too well. Two thestrals, only visible because of their faintly glowing eyes, the rest of their bony frames hidden by the darkness of the forest, began to step into the clearing. With the break in the canopy, starlight seeped down to the forest floor here, and once in the clearing, their bodies too became starkly real-looking. They trotted over to the rabbit carcass and began tearing at the raw flesh.
Finally, Peter noticed this. "Ugh!" he exclaimed. "Hagrid... are there thestrals here?"
"Yep," Hagrid said proudly, reaching over to pat one tentatively on its skeletal neck. It lifted its head momentarily, startled, then returned unconcernedly to its feast. "This one's Tenebrus. Severus, you all right?" he asked, glancing at the boy, who was standing some distance away from the feeding thestrals, his face unreadable.
"Fine, Hagrid," he replied tonelessly.
"Yeh can't... see 'em, can yeh?" Hagrid asked, his thick brows knitted with concern.
Severus shook his head. "No. That's just strange and disgusting."
"Now Severus—" Hagrid interrupted his lecture on the merits of thestrals and cocked his head to his left. "Shh! Hang on a sec, I'll go see what made that noise." He headed towards the trees, surprisingly silent considering his size and girth.
What noise? Peter thought. I didn't hear anything!
As soon as they lost sight of Hagrid, the clearing erupted in activity. Dark figures emerged from behind the trees, their faces concealed behind masks, their wands out. "Silencio!" one of them cried, and both Severus and Peter found themselves incapable of producing even a squeak of terror. One of the other masked silhouettes whispered, "Imperio," and the thestrals, which had been about to bolt into the woods, suddenly seemed as obedient as loyal dogs. Four of the others seized hold of Peter and Severus.
When Hagrid returned a few moments later, all that remained in the clearing was the trampled grass and the half-eaten carcass of the rabbit.